


It's a match

by SasuSoul



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Anxiety Disorder, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Boys In Love, Dancer Lance (Voltron), Dating, Dorks in Love, Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Idiots in Love, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Keith (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, M/M, Minor Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Musician Keith (Voltron), Online Dating, Social Anxiety, Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, inexperienced keith, like full siblings, this is cheesy af, tinder au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SasuSoul/pseuds/SasuSoul
Summary: Lance, 19Half Cuban/Half heartthrobDance student at Altea by day, hopeless gamer by night.Like my shirt? It’s made out of boyfriend materialIf you’ve read this far, why not swipe right? You obviously liked my pics ;)Though incredibly cheesy, he seemed like a fun person. Probably a lot more outgoing and cheerful than Keith. Possibly slightly annoying, even obnoxious judging from his bio, but fun. Not to mention ridiculously pretty. It really shouldn’t be allowed.The Tinder AU no one really asked for.This is just cheese and fluff, to be honest.Rated M for later chapters.





	1. It's a match

**Author's Note:**

> When I mentioned the random idea of making a Tinder AU on tumblr, you guys seemed interested enough. So here I am... doing cheesy stuff I don't know how to do and trying to remove myself from the angst of my other fics.  
> This will be very light on plot, and mostly just revolve around Keith and Lance being cute, cause that's what I need in my life right now. Not sure what more to say. This chapter is really short for me, but I figured I would try cutting them shorter and rather have more so I could upload this more often. Not much is happening yet, but I promise there is more to come if you stick around. I'm also really self-conscious about my writing in this for some reason, but I hope it's not as terrible as I think it is. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The sun was setting outside, flooding the living room of Keith and Shiro’s apartment with a dim, warm light that contrasted the sharp rays coming from the floor lamps. Today would have been a splendid day for going outside, warm and sunny, the first flowers of spring finally going into full bloom. However, neither Pidge nor Keith had enjoyed a minute of it, both leaned over their schoolwork, eyes droopy with exhaustion.

All Keith wanted was to take his bike for a ride in the soft spring breeze, but his musical composition assignment hadn’t allowed him any free time this weekend. Sighing, he pressed play and listened to his bridge for possibly the tenth time that day, desperately trying to figure out what made him wince whenever he passed a certain point. A key was clearly off, and there was something about the melody that irked him, though he couldn’t quite place it. He let out an annoyed huff.

Whatever, there was no time to change that now. He just had to live with it. This assignment was doomed to fail from the beginning. Keith had no experience in digital composition whatsoever, preferring the calming presence of a guitar in his hands or a piano beneath his fingers. Leave the fancy special effects and house music to someone else.

Pidge had her own frustrations to deal with, slumped over her computer and groaning loudly every few minutes when her character suddenly got an uncontrolled, floppy arm because she missed a frame. Digital animation was tedious, and Pidge’s project was a massive one. This combined with the fact that she wasn’t exactly the most patient person on the planet, often led to strings of curse words and manic button smashing.

At least she still had another week or two to finish her assignment, Keith needed to be done by tomorrow. Being a perfectionist, he couldn’t help but going over every part of his song again and again, second-guessing his choices for transitions, drops and whether to add more auto tune. He had probably overanalyzed everything by now, but he refused to let anyone else weigh in with their opinion, way too embarrassed about his music to share it.

Keith knew he was being difficult, hypocritical even. Who had heard of a successful musician that refused to share their works? If he didn’t get over this fear he would never be able to perform, but somehow the thought of other’s judging his work was still a mountain too high to climb. He presented his music when it was necessary for his college evaluation, but apart from that, he kept it to himself the best he could. Not even Pidge had heard him sing more than a handful of times, and she was one of the people he trusted the most. 

Sighing, he pushed his laptop and mixing gear away, removed his headphones, and sauntered over to the fridge. Pidge perked up from her hunched position, eyeing him curiously. Neither of them had moved in hours, fueling themselves with lukewarm Red Bull and leftover candy.

“You done?” She pulled off her headset and quirked a brow at him skeptically.

“It’s not getting any better. If I keep going I’ll just mess it up.” Keith replied, reaching for a plate of cold slices of pineapple pizza. They usually split their pizzas half-and-half, and while Shiro devoured his without mercy, Keith always seemed to have a couple of pieces leftover. His brother and Pidge never touched them, agreeing that pineapple on pizza was a cardinal sin. As long as Adam didn’t come over he had them all to himself.

“I should probably stop too,” she said, leaning over to close her computer, “I managed to decapitate the dog in the last frame.”

Keith chuckled at the mental image, receiving a glare from Pidge as she playfully shoved him out of the way to peek into the fridge.

“Do you guys ever have anything edible in here?” She complained loudly, before settling for a small beaker of strawberry yoghurt. Pidge grimaced as she pulled the lid off, leaning over to grab a spoon from the kitchen drawer.

“If you don’t like it don’t eat it,” Keith said, sighing at her displeased frown.

“I’m starving, Kogane. I can’t exactly live off of gummy bears and stale chips,” she groaned, dramatically falling back onto the couch with a hand covering her forehead.

“You live next door,” Keith deadpanned, joining her with his pizza.

“Too far, I’m not that desperate,” she said, shoving yoghurt into her mouth as if she hadn’t had a proper meal in days.

“Then stop complaining.”

“Hmmpfh.”

Pidge finished in a hurry, but continued to stay suspiciously quiet as Keith nibbled on his pizza. If he hadn’t been too busy feeding his desperate hunger, he would probably have noticed her leaning over to grab his phone before it was too late, but alas, the moment he jerked up and reached out for it, his android was already in the hands of the devil.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing with that?” Pidge threw him one of those glances that were meant to look innocent but read more as pure malice to Keith. He knew that look. Whatever was on her mind, he was now fully determined to stop her.

“Relax, dude. I’m just having a little harmless fun!” Nothing about Pidge Holt was ever harmless; Keith had known her long enough to know that.

“Give it back!” He reached out for her, but Pidge was both small and fast, expertly slipping out of his grip like a snake, dangling his phone just out of reach.

“Wanna know what I’m doing?” She sing-songed, and Keith frowned.

“I want you to stop what you’re doing, that’s what I want!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you anyway.” She moved in closer to him on the couch, giving him a look that clearly said she would smash his phone on the table if he tried to come for her.

“I, the amazing Pidge Holt, am helping you find your forever soulmate!” She proudly presented the screen, showing a blurry picture of Keith eating pizza. He didn’t recognize the app at first, but when he saw the little red flame emoji in the top left corner, he had to keep himself from choking Pidge on the spot.

“Why is my picture on fucking Tinder????”

“Because I’m bored and you need a boyfriend,” she stated simply, typing into Keith’s phone.

“Why don’t you just make one for yourself then? It’s not like you have a love life!” Keith snapped, but Pidge only shrugged, cutting him off before he could go any further.

“I have no interest in boys, or girls, or anyone for that matter. You on the other hand…” She mused at him, tongue poking out to wet her lips, “I just need to make you a tasty bio, and voila. Besides, it might be fun to play with all the dirty creeps on this app.”

Keith gave up on stopping her after that. Instead, he stayed just within her line of vision, making sure to glare intently at her whenever her eyes flickered up. He didn’t even want to know what she was writing about him, probably something extremely embarrassing. Luckily, he didn’t have any pictures on his phone she could snatch, and Keith sure as hell wasn’t going to let her take any more.

Two minutes later, Pidge triumphantly shoved Keith’s phone in his face, her eyes glinting with mischief. He looked down to see what had to be the most unflattering description of himself he had ever seen, yet it was scarily accurate.

“Don’t you dare post that shit anywhere with my name on it!” he exclaimed annoyed, pointing an accusing finger at Pidge.

“Ok.” she said calmly, and Keith was completely thrown off by her reaction. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

Of course, it couldn’t. Once Pidge handed him the phone, he could see that she had taken his request quite literally. The bio was now public, but Keith’s name simply changed. Same picture. Same ridiculous description. He cursed internally. Why was Pidge always so insistent on humiliating him?

 

**K, 20**

**Music student at Altea. Usually seen with coffee in hand and bags under my eyes.**

**Hobbies include playing broody songs on my guitar and hating my life.**

**I never take off my fingerless gloves, not even in the shower.**

**Your not-so-friendly neighborhood emo.**

 

“Wtf Pidge?”

“They need to know the real you, Keith. So they’re aware of what they’re signing up for.”

“I hate you,” Keith mumbled, but his tone was defeated. There was no way he could talk Pidge out of using this profile now that she had made it, it was better to go with the flow and delete it once she left.

“I love you too,” Lucifer herself smirked, snatching the phone back from Keith’s hand. He made one more futile attempt to grab it before moving to sulk in the opposite corner of the sofa. Sometimes he felt like Pidge was the annoying little sister he never had, but never wanted either. No one else knew how to push his buttons like her, and right now she was mashing down on the big red one saying “don’t touch” repeatedly.

Keeping his phone away from Keith’s reach, Pidge proceeded to “carefully evaluate the eligible bachelors of Altea”, which apparently meant frantically swiping right at every man she saw pop up on the screen. She even upped the age limit, swiping right on men that could have been Keith’s dad or uncle.

Wanting to monitor Pidge’s behavior, even though he knew it was futile, Keith moved in closer again, watching as she matched with man after man as she swiped right in quick succession.

“Someone’s popular,” she smirked, and Keith nudged her head, causing her to yelp loudly. Even though she rubbed the back of it afterwards, clearly feeling the impact, Keith didn’t apologize. He was the victim here, not her.

He definitely didn’t regret his decision to smack Pidge over the head after he saw what she started typing out in the chats. Dirty, vile pick-up lines peeled off her like a second skin. She used them both to reply to the ones that had already contacted her and to message various strangers she had recently matched him with. Increasingly filthier answers filled up the inbox, and Keith hid his head in his hoodie in shame, hoping none of these people was in his classes. Pidge’s efforts were sure to embarrass him for months to come if anyone he knew got a hold of these.

As if that was not enough, Pidge stepped up on a nearby armchair and started reciting the messages aloud, along with exaggerating gestures, grimaces and theatrical impressions. This attracted Shiro from his bedroom, and soon they took turns reading the messages and their replies, causing Keith to get even more uncomfortable.

“What a nice mouth you’ve got. Hit me up if you wanna swallow anything other than that pizza, wink wink,” Pidge read in her deepest, most masculine voice, before switching to a girly tone as she typed out her reply.

“I’d taste you anytime, hotshot.” Shiro was bent over the chair laughing, an occasional grunt escaping his nose and making Pidge snicker.

“I swear I’m gonna kill you both,” Keith sputtered angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. Pidge ignored him, eagerly reciting a Shakespeare sonnet that someone had roughened up and sent him, containing far too many sexual innuendos.

It was actually impressively well written; still containing the structure and old English that Shakespeare was known for. If it hadn’t been for the fact that this was clearly a poem about masturbating to the sight of _his_ ass, Keith might have found it funny.

Shiro cut Pidge off before she reached the crescendo, struggling not to laugh as he told her it was time to stop this torturous display before Keith vanished in a puddle of shame. Keith wasn’t sure if he was thankful for what his brother did, or mad at him for not intervening sooner. As he remembered Shiro reciting a series of texts explicitly explaining how a man wanted to cuff him to his bed and fist him, he decided it was definitely the latter.

Either Pidge’s version of Keith only attracted a certain type of people, or tinder was a place full of horny bastards that only wanted one thing. Keith wondered whether he had gotten any normal messages at all. Probably not, considering Pidge had spammed every match of his with inappropriate one-liners. Oh well, it didn’t matter. As soon as Pidge left the house, Keith would delete the app and try his best to forget this ever happened.

When Shiro went to return his phone, Keith snatched it from his hand and immediately closed the app, nostrils flaring. His brother apologized profusely, trying to explain how it was all in good fun, while Pidge only looked at him with wide puppy-dog eyes. While he knew none of them had bad intentions, he definitely felt like they had crossed a line. Then again, it could have been worse.

“Don’t _ever_ do that again. And you both owe me a pineapple pizza,” they nodded obediently, looking at each other in a way that clearly said _I can’t believe we got away with it that easily_.

“Sure, we’ll buy you all the pizza you want,” Shiro said enthusiastically, spreading his arms in a peace offering. Now it was Keith’s turn to laugh wickedly, confusing them both.

“The pizza is for you two. Every single piece. Plain with tomato sauce, cheese and pineapples. And you will eat it without any complaints,” he added, “or I’ll throw in some olives to boot.” Pidge groaned and looked at Shiro with pleading eyes, but he only patted her head firmly, shaking his own.

“You got yourself into this, kid. It’s only fair.” Pidge huffed in protest, but didn’t move to leave as Keith dialed the delivery truck from Pizza Hut.

“Olives for Pidge then,” he smirked. She opened her mouth to protest but Keith beat her to the punch, “If you don’t shut up, anchovies are next on the list.” Pidge frowned at him, but stayed quiet.

The next hour of watching Shiro and Pidge gag, retch and complain while devouring piece after piece of pineapple pizza made the entire exchange worth it for Keith. He laughed loudly at every groan and grimace coming from their mouths, but pitied them enough to take a few pieces for himself in the end. After all, the two of them didn’t appreciate high quality food. It was a waste of resources.

When Pidge left to go to sleep, they were all on good terms again. She even slipped him one of those incredibly rare hugs on the way out. Pidge never hugged anyone but Matt, her mom, and occasionally Keith. Though Keith was not a very affection-seeking person himself, he cherished her hugs immensely.

“I’m gonna go to bed, see you in the morning!” he waved to Shiro and headed to his bedroom. Slipping out of his jeans and hoodie, he crept into bed, wrapping himself in the duvet like a burrito.

It took him a moment to figure out how to free his arms and still maintain the structure of the covers around him, but soon he was able to effortlessly scroll on his phone while cocooned.

His finger hovered over the burning flame icon, but instead of moving it to the trash bin; he clicked to open the app, suddenly overtaken by curiosity. Opening a few of the conversations, he giggled at some of Pidge’s more creative conversation starters. When he detached himself from the equation, it was actually quite funny to read the messages.

He also learned that some of the guys contacting him had been both nice and polite, but they had stopped responding once Pidge flooded them with dirty messages. Keith felt somewhat bad for them, knowing how much courage it could take to start a conversation. He had personal experience with that.

Deleting the conversations, Keith once again closed the app, but ended up opening it only minutes later. Maybe he could just swipe a little. See what this experience was all about, without naughty messages and horny dudes to ruining it for him.

Tentatively moving his finger across the screen, Keith swiped left on a few football jocks, growing increasingly disinterested as he went. At this point he was barely even looking at the pictures before swiping left, once again wondering why anyone was present on this godforsaken app.

He nearly swiped past the next profile as well, but his finger screeched to a halt when he took in those piercing blue eyes. Stopping, he tapped the picture to enlarge it, seeing a tan brunet smiling confidently at the camera, sparkling rays from the heavy sun reflecting in his eyes. The picture was clearly taken in summer, and the boy was wearing only blue and white swimming trunks, clutching a surfboard with his right hand, his left one holding up a peace sign.

His skin looked velvet smooth, and Keith couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing to the defined abs outlined on his stomach. Intrigued, Keith moved to the next picture. Here, the stranger was standing next to a newly built snowman, holding an excited toddler in his arms. Possibly a niece or younger sister, Keith thought. Hopefully not a daughter, given the guy’s age. The boy was full on grinning, his pearl-white teeth rivaling in color with the fresh snow. It seemed like such an earnest smile, and Keith found himself wondering what it would feel like to be the cause of it.

 

**Lance, 19**

**Half Cuban/Half heartthrob**

**Dance student at Altea by day, hopeless gamer by night.**

**Like my shirt? It’s made out of boyfriend material**

**If you’ve read this far, why not swipe right? You obviously liked my pics ;)**

 

Though incredibly cheesy, he seemed like a fun person. Probably a lot more outgoing and cheerful than Keith. Possibly slightly annoying, even obnoxious judging from his bio, but fun. Not to mention ridiculously pretty. It really shouldn’t be allowed.

By his name was a bright blue star icon that Keith hadn’t seen on any of the other profiles. Little sparks of blue were radiating out from it, making it prominent on the plain white background. _I wonder what that means._

Pausing to think, Keith scratched the back of his head. Was he really going to use this app the way it was intended? Surely not, but it would be fun to swipe right just this once and see what happens. He was going to delete the app later anyways. Besides, this guy was way out of his league. There was no way it would work.

Keith swiped right, instantly receiving a pop-up message on the screen, displaying their icons side by side. He gasped in surprise and slight horror.

 

**It’s a match!**

**You and Lance have liked each other!**

**Send a message**

**Keep swiping**

 

No no no no no! Hold on a minute, rewind! He never expected _that_ to happen. What was he supposed to do now? What if this guy only swiped right to mess with him? Surely, Keith wasn’t the only one that had devilish friends. There was no way he did that on purpose. No way. Keith should probably delete the app now before he embarrassed himself again. Especially considering this guy went to his local college.

Before he had the time to do that however, a notification popped up in the right corner.

**Message from: Lance**

Keith clicked the icon, not sure what he was expecting, his pulse suddenly raging in his throat. He debated throwing the phone across the room and never picking it up again. What if this guy knew any of the ones Pidge had been messaging? Maybe he swiped right to get revenge for one of his mates. He nervously peeked down at the message.

**Lance: Was your father a thief?**

 

Ok, now he had absolutely no idea what was going on. Was this some sort of accusation? What kind of point was he trying to make? Keith should really just ignore him, shouldn’t he? Move on before this app caused him even more embarrassment.

But his fingers moved on their own accord and he typed back, cursing at himself for not putting away the phone and going to sleep. As if he would be able to sleep now, anyway.

**K: No, why?**

The chat immediately dinged again.

 **Lance:** **‘Cause someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.**

 

Okay, he had to admit that was cute. Even though his eyes didn’t show in the picture. Wait, was this guy flirting with him, or just messing around? Probably the latter. Keith wouldn’t let him get points that easily.

**K: My eyes don’t even show in my profile pic…**

Blunt, as usual. Speaking his mind even when he knew he’d be better off staying quiet.

**Lance: I know, that was kind of a weird ice-breaker… Sorry.**

**Lance: But you could show me a real picture and I’ll judge if your eyes are as cute as the rest of your face ;)**

Keith blushed a little at that. What was with him today? This random guy he’d never met before made him feel all jittery inside. Admittedly, he was also a bit annoyed by his approaches, but more in an amused way. Keith felt a sudden need to know how Lance ticked, what made him flirt with such nonchalant confidence without coming off like an egotistical jerk. He was intrigued, and therefore kept indulging himself in the meaningless conversation.

**K: I don’t think so**

**Lance: bummer…**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: There seems to be something wrong with my eyes…**

**Lance: I can’t take them off you ;)**

Keith shook his head in disbelief, letting out a soft chuckle. Ok, maybe this guy was a bit of a one trick pony. However, there was no way he wasn’t flirting with him at this point. Keith wasn’t very experienced in that area, but three cheesy compliments in a row had to mean something, right? To make it even better, none of them had been about his mouth, his ass or their many indecent applications.

 

**K: Is sending cheesy pick-up lines all you do on this app or?**

**Lance: Kinda… I’m really bad at small talk.**

**Lance: You do look good though. At least what I can see from that blurry pic.**

 

It surprised Keith how genuine his compliment seemed, and he felt a surge of heat rise to his cheekbones, his heart rate picking up a fraction.

**K: Thanks, I guess**

 

The piercing pitch from his alarm clock ruined the moment, reminding him that it was time to go to sleep if he wanted to have a decent chance of being on time tomorrow. Stretching his arms above his head and yawning, Keith typed a final message to Lance, managing to catch his answer right before he closed off the app.

**K: I’mma go to bed now. Bye stranger.**

**Lance: Night. Sweet dreams, K.**

 

K? Oh, right. That was him. Wow, that was… oddly sweet. Kind of endearing actually. This guy really seemed to have his heart in the right place. Keith was glad they had the chance to talk, though he doubted Lance would ever contact him again. He had responded far too crudely. Looking down at his phone, he smiled softly to himself and pressed the lock button. There was really no rush. He could delete the app tomorrow.


	2. Pick-uping my way to your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance decides to teach Keith how to online flirt. Keith is surprised Lance is still even interested in talking to him, but is not at all complaining. 
> 
> *  
> Quickly glancing over at Pidge, making sure she was occupied with her own phone, Keith put his thumb against the panel to unlock his screen, immediately pressing to open the message from Lance. 
> 
> Lance: Is your name Gillette? Cause you’re the best a man can get ;)  
> Lance: Your turn cowboy ^^
> 
> Keith let out a quiet laugh, covering his mouth with his free hand. Of all the things he could have told Lance, Keith just had to start with his Texan heritage hadn’t he? How had he not foreseen that this would happen? Gillette though, he had to admit that was a good one. Now, how was he going to top that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna start with saying don't get used to this - I'm usually not this fast at uploading (although the entire point of these shorter chapters is to hopefully update more often). Do not expect a new chapter every week or something x) I have a life, and like 3-4 other ongoing fics. Some more prioritized than otheres, hehe... 
> 
> Me: this is gonna be all fluff all the time  
> Brain: with a sprinkle of angst  
> Me: but... 
> 
> Recently I've gone through a really bad period physically, and it seems like I'm constantly ill or brewing on something, which really sucks. But at least it gave me time to finish this. I'm being very serious about the whole "cut the chapter length" thing in this fic, mostly for my own good, so this chapter ended up having only half of the plot that I originally wanted to put in it x) The remainder will become my next chapter, and so on so forth. 
> 
> When I saw the stats for this, I first figure people didn't like it, but then I realized that the kudos/hit ratio is actually quite high, so it can't be that horrible I guess. Also, I already have a fair amount of subscribers, so I'm hoping you guys are there to stick around :) I'm looking forward to it!

 

Making it to class that morning seemed nearly impossible. Keith probably wasn’t the only student who hated Monday’s, nor the only one who needed at least two cups of black coffee to wake up at such an ungodly hour, but on days like this he felt like the most mistreated person on the planet. Why on Earth had he decided to take that 8 am class, and in the beginning of the week? What had he been thinking? He would never get used to this. Never.

Entering the lecture hall, Keith aimed for a seat in the back like usual, but his teacher waved him over before he could disappear in the mass of cranky students. Always being one to expect the worst, Keith steeled himself as he walked over.

  _It’s gonna be ok. Probably just small talk. Come on, Keith. Breathe. Breathe through your nose. People are looking at me. Wait, maybe this is bad. This is bad isn’t it? Breathe, Keith. Breathe._

“You wanted to talk to me?” Keith said, voice hoarse, but less strained than he had thought. Miss Adinbury merely nodded courtly and gestured for him to follow her down the hall. His heart was thumping so loudly right now that Keith was sure everyone around could hear it. Trying his best to avoid trembling, he followed the sound of his teacher’s clacking heels, not once taking his eyes off the floor.

Every possible scenario drifted before his eyes as he walked. Alternate realities shimmering and glowing faintly like old film rolls, each new one more dreadful than the other. Maybe she had brought him here to retract that A she had given him at the start of the semester. For him to get such a good grade, even in acoustics, had to have been a mistake. It wouldn’t have been a big surprise to him, he had been waiting for it to happen all month. Silently hoping, begging that maybe it wasn’t too good to be true, but never quite believing it.

Perhaps she was so displeased with his performance that she wanted him off the course. He had to admit he had been a little off-key in their last guitar lesson. It had only been one time, but the look of dismay from his classmates at the sound had burned into the back of Keith’s retinas. Everyone in this class were probably ashamed to have the likes of him in their midst. No talent, no stage personality, no X-factor. Just him. Just Keith. And just Keith had never been good enough, nor would he ever be.

He felt his heart sink like a heavy boulder in a vast lake. Down, down, down. Not even bothering to fight the pull of gravity. By the time they reached around the corner and Miss Adinbury stopped in her tracks, Keith had gone through his own expulsion three times in his head, wondering what he would say to Shiro, to his mother, to Pidge.

Lost in his own negative maelstrom, it took him a minute to realize that his teacher’s mouth was actually moving, and yet another to stop focusing on her lips and actually pick up the words. His head was spinning, and Keith felt dizzy. His breath drawing in short gasps instead of full inhales. Somehow, he managed to still look presentable, give a slight yawn, and hold his finger up to stop his teacher from talking. Gathering some air in his lungs, Keith exhaled slowly before cutting her off.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I’m really not my best self in the morning.” To his surprise, Miss Adinbury nodded, giving him an understanding smile. A strand of blonde hair fell over her face and she pushed it behind her ear with her pencil, moving to tighten the ponytail in the back. Then she smiled softly at him, the slight crinkles around her eyes making her look way less threatening than the image Keith had conjured in his mind.

“That’s ok, my boy. I’m not much of a morning person myself.” Still smiling, she opened her binder and pulled out some very familiar note sheets. _His_ note sheets. So much for calming down. Keith could feel his knees start to buckle under him, but willed himself not to tremble. Sweat gathered in his palms and on his forehead. To him it always felt like buckets, but he tried his best to remind himself that it was barely even visible to others. Shiro’s voice echoed in his head: _Patience yields focus_. He looked up from the sheets at his ever so cheerful teacher, and prepared for the finishing blow.

“I just wanted to commend you on this piece personally. Writing like this takes skill, Keith. And it takes soul. True commitment. I see it in every piece you make. You breathe music. That’s a skill I cannot teach, which is why it is so vastly important.”

She chuckled lightly as Keith’s jaw dropped and he stammered a thank you, completely overwhelmed by the kind words. Keith felt her laughter ringing in his ears, his pulse so hard it slammed into his throat and wrists with the impact of a wrecking ball. Did she just… compliment him? Him, of all people? That couldn’t be. There had to be a mistake.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Keith. You deserve all the praise I’m giving you. Though this was not the only reason I brought you here,” she closed her binder and looked him directly in the eyes; her walnut brown orbs piercing and determined, “The school will soon be hosting its annual exhibition, where aspiring creators from all fields on Altea gather to showcase their talents, whether it be music, dance, paint, theatrical performances. You do know of this, don’t you?”

Keith nodded. Of course, he had heard of the annual exhibition. The event gathered onlookers from all over the city, all expectantly waiting to see the performers of the future. In many a dream, Keith had envisioned himself on that stage; and in many a nightmare that experience had left him humiliated and depressed. Only the mere thought of performing in front of such a big crowd made his stomach twist and his breakfast bagel threaten to spill out his throat. Still, the recognition that would come from it was beyond anything he had ever dreamed. If he only hadn’t had that shadow hanging over his back.

“Well, then I also presume you know that a panel needs to invite you to make you eligible to perform?” Keith managed a humming sound of agreement, his throat suddenly dry as a desert. “I wanted to ask you if you were up for it. This is of course strictly voluntary, but it would have a clear positive impact on your final grade. Plus, a lot of influential people in the artistic community are often present on these events. It would be very nice for building a network.”

Opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, Keith desperately tried to give his brain some of that essential oxygen. Because it was clearly malfunctioning right now. What he thought he had just heard was most certainly _not_ the case. He needed time to process this. Time away from prying eyes and expectant voices telling him what he should and should not do.

Him? On a stage in front of hundreds, possibly thousands? Impossible. He would short-circuit; his voice would turn sour from intense anxiety. The probability of fainting was fairly high, the chance of humiliation close to 100 percent. He wasn’t sure what Miss Adinbury saw in him, but she was clearly misguided.

Realizing he hadn’t really answered her, Keith looked up from his hands at his teacher, who was eyeing him in a calm but expectant manner. “I… Wow… I need to… I need to think about it,” he stammered out, voice unsteady but not shaking nearly as much as he feared.

“Of course you do,” Miss Adinbury nodded, “take the time you need to get back to me. I really do hope you accept though, it would be a fine chance to break out of your shell,” she added, lips quirking upwards, before she turned on her heel and ushered him with her, muttering about being late for her own lecture.

 

* * *

 

 

The next four hours of lectures and practical exercises had been as useful to Keith as sunscreen is to an elephant. The heavy pounding of his heart hadn’t slowed down once since he followed those clacking white pumps down the wooden tiling of Building 6, and the voices in his head had varied from whispers to full blown screams of terror. At one point, he had to leave to classroom to avoid having a public breakdown, breathing in short, heavy breaths bent over the sink next to the urinal. Why did anxiety always have such power over him?

Deciding he had dealt with about enough torture, Keith skipped out on his next lecture to refill his coffee cup and maybe get a donut. Anything to distract him from the disjointed concert playing in his brain. He was next in line for that sweet, black salvation when his phone pinged, and he hastily whipped it out, eyes wide with panic.

Wait, what was he panicking about? There was no real reason to freak out. It was only a text message, probably from Pidge. However, his oversensitive mind kept telling him that human contact was an evil that wasn’t necessary, so he buried his phone in his back pocket, ordered his donut, and barricaded himself in the most distant corner the campus café had to offer.

Munching on his glazed pastry, Keith heard another ping and sighed, reaching for his phone again. Instead of the green speech bubble that signaled Pidge had texted him, Keith was met with a familiar red icon. Could it be?

Suddenly eager to know, but prepared for imminent disappointment, Keith swiped to open his phone and check his latest notifications properly. 

 

**Message from: Lance**

 

There it was again, that bubbling, light feeling in his stomach. Threatening to overcome him entirely. Yesterday he had experienced that same sensation, albeit his anxiety now made his emotions even more intense than usual. How could a stranger shift his attention in the span of seconds?

 

**Lance: Someone should call the police, because you just stole my heart!**

**Lance: ;)**

 

Keith let out an amused huff, imagining how clever Lance must have thought he was when he conjured up that line. Even though it was textbook cheesy, Keith felt his heart stumble in his chest, and cursed himself for being so easy. Yet that text had him smiling again, if only for a second, which was impressive given his more than dismal mood.

He had texted him again. Despite Keith’s dismissive tone the day before, this guy had by some miracle of the Earth decided to give him another chance. Of course, Keith was socially incompetent enough not to know how to deal with such a gift.

 

**Keith: You know this is not how you usually start a conversation, right?**

 

His inbox dinged instantly. This Lance guy sure typed fast.

 

**Lance: Yeah, but it’s so much more fun! Seriously, you should try it once!**

 

Was his mind betraying him again, or did this guy just request for Keith to flirt with him? Amusing. However, Keith knew as much about flirting as he knew about algebra. In other words, it was completely foreign to him. Confusing. Every step of it throwing him off and making him second-guess his decisions.

No matter how hard he tried, it seemed impossible to understand how other people felt about him, what their intentions were. Flirting was such a fleeting game of pushing and pulling away again, and Keith had never been good at expressing his thoughts in such a manner. He was blunt, direct. Either a wall was up around him or he blurted it all out. There was no in-between. And neither of the two were good tactics when communicating with a stranger. Therefore, he always backed off before something could come back and bite him. Better to be safe than sorry.

 

**Keith: Nah**

**Lance: One day I’ll change your mind about these. Just wait and you’ll see.**

**Keith: I highly doubt it.**

**Lance: You’re only saying that because you don’t know any good pick-up lines yourself.**

 

It was pathetic how badly Keith wanted to prove him wrong. He knew Lance was baiting him, knew he tried issuing a challenge in the hopes that Keith would bite. Well, he had him. Hook, line and sinker. 

 

**Keith: Of course I do. At least some that’s way better than yours.**

**Lance: Prove it!**

 

Now he had really backed himself into a corner. Keith had never used a pick-up line in his life. Somehow, all he could think about were the ones that Lance had sent him. Well, those and various quotes from Dirty Dancing; Pidge had made him watch that movie more times than he cared to admit.

Admitting defeat, he googled “popular pick-up lines” and typed in the first result he found. Probably not the best idea, but it couldn’t be that bad considering people used it that often; could it? Well, this was still better than caving completely. At least he hoped so.

 

**Keith: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?**

**Lance: Come on! You can do better than that. That’s like flirting 101 in the 90’s.**

 

Keith huffed, burying his face in his hands. So much for trying to prove a point. Glancing over at his phone, he saw the familiar three dots pop up on his display.

 

**Lance is typing …**

 

Was there really no one else exciting to chat with on this app? Or, god forbid, was texting with Keith actually amusing to this guy? How did his mindless and blunt responses keep Lance interested even in the slightest? He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

 

**Lance: Btw**

**Lance: Please call an ambulance, your beauty is killing me!**

**Lance: I’m sure I’d be dead already if I had a full resolution picture**

Now that was… Something. His heart was still havocking his ribcage, his fingertips numb and foreign where he held his coffee cup; but Keith felt his the edges of his mouth pull upward and his stomach fill with moths and butterflies. The strange equilibrium between smothering anxiety and mild infatuation was almost too much for his body to handle, cascades of adrenaline rushing through his veins like river rapids. What was he supposed to say to that? And should he be worried or flattered that this man kept asking for a photo of him? One thing was certain, he couldn’t leave him hanging. That would completely ruin any chance he had of getting to know him. _Just be honest. What have you got to lose?_

**Keith: … That was actually kind of flattering.**

**Lance: Told you I’d make you like it.**

**Lance: Now, try again. Charm me.**

There was something about his expectant tone that made Keith eager to impress him. To show Lance that two people could play this little game of back and forth. Besides, if he kept sending him new ones, the chances were higher for a reply. Keith didn’t want to admit it, but that seemed to be where most of his motivation was coming from; though the competition aspect helped riling him up.

Back on Google, he decided to dig deeper into the jungle that was one-liners and romantic conversation starters. Shocked to find that there were even specific websites dedicated to this —where one could upvote or downvote a list of pick-up lines, indicating which worked better or were more amusing to the receiver — Keith scrolled through the categories to find something that would sound like a phrase he already knew by heart. He felt like Lance knowing he was searching for these ruined the illusion they were creating.

It took him close to ten minutes before he found something he was somewhat comfortable with, and sent it off before he had time to second-guess himself. If he took too long, Lance might think he didn’t bother answering him. Keith had already made a bad first impression; he didn’t want it to be a long-lasting one.

 

**Keith: Was that an earthquake or did you just rock my world?**

Once again, Lance replied instantly. Keith barely had time to put his phone down before he picked it back up.

**Lance: Better, but still not quite there.**

Considering his lack of experience on the matter, Keith took that as a compliment, another rare smile finding its way to his lips. Hadn’t it been for his teacher’s request looming over him like a dark cloud, Keith was sure he would have been floating by now. Another ping caught his attention, and he let out a soft sigh of disappointment as he read it. However, that quickly turned to nervous excitement as he finished the string of texts.

 

**Lance: I gotta go now, my friend is nagging at me.**

**Lance: We can pick-up our lesson tomorrow ;)**

**Lance: Get it? Pick-up, cause pick-up lines**

**Lance: I’ll shut up now…**

**Keith: Bye Lance**

 

Tomorrow, huh? He supposed he could put off deleting the app just a little longer.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next few days, Keith was smiling down at his phone a lot more than usual. He had expected Lance to keep his word, but the degree of seriousness he had applied to teaching him online flirting was simply hilarious. Every day he received a new one-liner, followed by an expectant wink as he waited for Keith’s reply. Then he proceeded to rate his pick-up lines on a scale from one to ten, and be extremely serious about whether he saw improvement or not. It was a both ridiculous and unnecessary activity, but strangely endearing.  

Keith started to keep his phone close on hand even when he practiced; letting Lance’s daily chain of messages invade even his most private space. Somehow, it comforted him, even though his lessons were sometimes cut short due to distractions from the cheerful Cuban.

He had yet to give away his name or picture, even though he was quickly warming up to the boy’s charm. Understanding of his hesitancy, Lance had stopped asking on his own accord, instead using their texting time to small talk about the weather or complain about his upcoming assignments. It was cozy, and a good distraction from Keith’s everyday problems.

He had yet to tell Shiro about his conversation with Miss Adinbury, and felt the need to postpone that talk just a little longer. Even accepting the fact that he had been asked, that the entire ordeal wasn’t a fluke or some morbid prank being pulled on him, took him a few days of coaxing himself. Pidge had of course sensed his distress immediately, proceeding to lure the information out of him inch by inch until he spilled it all on her during one of their coffee breaks.

Familiar with his performance anxiety, Pidge was never one to push on these issues, she simply acted as a mediator as Keith discussed with himself, providing insight or relevant opinions when appropriate. It was the complete lack of pressure and expectations that made Keith dare to present such issues to her. Pidge would never tell him he wasted his abilities, like Shiro or his teachers, nor be disappointed if his ultimate decision was to drop the whole matter completely. She was simply there for him, calm and patient, never belittling him or making him feel inferior or different. Never pitying him or over-sympathizing. Merely a comforting presence, wrapping around him like a secure blanket. Her support was tremendously important to him.

This Friday night, they were both sipping on cold mocha frappes and going over Pidge’s finishing touches for her animation project, Keith trying his best to be supportive even though he knew next to nothing about digital art. His only job was to tell Pidge whether he found her elements visually pleasing. If something bothered him, no matter how miniscule and insignificant it could seem, she wanted him to say it. Yell it from the mountaintops even. She would then take her time to evaluate whether it was an actual issue or if Keith just had terrible taste. The rulings were pretty much 50/50 at this point.

Though Keith was working his hardest to stay motivated and engaged, he could not help looking over at his phone every other minute, hoping the screen would light up with that familiar red icon. It was closing in on sunset now, soon to be 9 pm, ending their stay at the coffee shop, and he still hadn’t heard a peep from Lance all day.

His absence made Keith feel uneasy, as Lance usually texted him around lunch time, sometimes following it up with a cheeky comment around the end of school hours, never failing to lighten up Keith’s mood. Had something happened to him? It could be he just had a busy schedule, though that had never seemed to stop him before.

Not once did it occur to Keith that he could have broken their cycle and texted Lance first. For him, this was simply the dynamic of their relationship. Lance sent him a pick-up line, Keith replied as best as he could, and then they took it from there. No more, no less. This pattern seemed to work well for them, so why would he break it up?

It wasn’t until they were walking home from the shop, Pidge shivering without a jacket in the cold spring breeze, that Keith received his pick-up line of the day. Quickly glancing over at Pidge, making sure she was occupied with her own phone, Keith put his thumb against the panel to unlock his screen, immediately pressing to open the message from Lance.

 

**Lance: Is your name Gillette? Cause you’re the best a man can get ;)**

**Lance: Your turn cowboy ^^**

 

Keith let out a quiet laugh, covering his mouth with his free hand. Of all the things he could have told Lance, Keith just had to start with his Texan heritage hadn’t he? How had he not foreseen that this would happen? Gillette though, he had to admit that was a good one. Now, how was he going to top that? A brand for a brand seemed reasonable, but none of the one-liners Keith had downloaded seemed to fit that description. Back to Google it was then.

He muffled more snickers as he scrolled through several web pages, trying his best to stay serious while reading all the downright ridiculous things people came up with to try and impress a stranger. Well, what was he to say? He was just as good as they were with how he scoured through it looking for material. At least some of these people had managed to come up with their own flirty jokes and compliments to tell their potential date or special someone; Keith couldn’t conjure up a good line for the life of him.

Pidge was eyeing him curiously, and he did _not_ want her to know that something good actually came from that horrendous prank she pulled. She would never let him live it down. Besides, he wasn’t really sure if what they were doing were simply friendly banter and jokes, or if Lance was actually serious about him. Either way, Keith didn’t want it to stop, and he would most certainly have to end it if Pidge found out. Dealing with her hanging over his shoulder and analyzing every text Lance sent him seemed like the plot of a bad horror film. Thanks, but no thanks.

Therefore, he jumped the gun and simply wrote the first thing that came to his mind. He sighed as he pressed the send button. For a singer-songwriter, Keith was impressively bad at improvising good lines of text. His only salvation would be if Lance found his bluntness charming, which when he thought about it, didn’t seem too farfetched. After all, the guy was still talking to him.

 

**Keith: If you were a pair of Nikes, I’d, uh… really like Nikes?**

**Lance: If you wanna sound sincere you might consider dropping that question mark.**

**Lance: But you get extra points for trying to stay on theme. 6/10**

**Lance: I’ll treat you to another one just for that ;)**

**Lance: Baby you’re so sweet you’d put Ben & Jerry’s out of business **

**Lance: You’re welcome ;)**

 

Keith’s giggles were not so quiet anymore, bubbling out of him like zephyrs, tickling his insides and spreading comforting warmth throughout him. If Pidge hadn’t been suspicious of him before, she certainly was now, quirking a brow at him and leaning in closer. Typing out his reply with supersonic speed, Keith looked up to meet her inquisitive gaze.

 

“What’s so funny, dude?”

“Nothing. Just a cat video.” Keith said, quickly closing the app and heading back to his home screen. Pidge’s eyes lit up from the mention of little raging fur balls, completely forgetting any ulterior motive she might have had.

“Oooooh. Show me!” She demanded, ducking under his arm and pressing closer. Keith tried to pull off what he thought was a nonchalant shrug.

“Sorry, just closed it,” Pidge frowned, pulling at her lower lip with her teeth, releasing a popping sound.

“Damn it…”

Keith didn’t get to look at his phone again until he had followed Pidge to her house, but pulled it out as soon as the front door closed behind her, rolling his eyes at his own desperation.

 

**Keith: Btw, where have you been all day?**

**Lance: Awww, did you miss me?**

 

Keith’s face softened. Maybe he had, but he certainly wasn’t going to admit it. No need to inflate Lance’s ego.

 

**Keith: Nah**

**Lance:** **:(**

**Lance: I can tell you’re lying from a mile away.**

**Keith: You must be a bad psychic then**

**Lance: I’m one of the best ;)**

**Lance: And the answer is dance practice. Which I’m frankly really sweaty from, so I’mma go ahead and shower now.**

**Lance: I’ll text you tomorrow <3 so, yeehaw, or whatever you cowboys say **

**Keith: I really regret sharing any sort of personal information with you right now**

**Keith: Talk to you later, stranger** **:)**

 

Crossing the doorstep, all Keith could think about was a certain chiseled, tan body, all sweaty from long hours of swaying his hips and moving his limbs to the beat of the music. And as he imagined hot water dripping down Lance's torso, running over toned abs and flattening that mop of messy brown hair, Keith ended up needing a long, cold shower of his own.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! 
> 
> Might be a while until the next one as I really need to update Liabc, and kinda wanna write something for Mermay. 
> 
> Please leave me a kudos if you liked it! Or even a comment if you wanna pat me on the back. I really appreciate that. 
> 
> You can still find me on tumblr: @sasusoul 
> 
> Cheers! 
> 
> PS: While the chapters are in Keith's POV, the chapter titles are basically Lance's quick, cheesy description of the content, so they are meant to be weird and maybe even cringy at times.


	3. I'm buzzin' for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance: Are ye a button? ‘Caus I’d tap dat
> 
> The message was followed by ten minutes of radio silence, and Keith didn’t know what to think. Unable to come up with an appropriate response, he settled for being his blunt self.
> 
> K: Are you ok?
> 
> It took a couple of minutes for him to reply, which was odd considering Lance usually typed ridiculously fast. Then again, everything seemed to be off about Lance tonight.
> 
> Lance is typing…  
> Lance: Amazenn  
> Lance: Jus doin som shots.  
> Lance: d strowbery ones r d best  
> Lance: strawbery*  
> Lance: strawberry*  
> Lance: I know how to write I swear
> 
> .  
> Where Keith gets familiar with drunk Lance, freaks out, and seeks his brother for relationship advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a pretty bad place now anxiety wise, and somehow writing this carefree little fic is making me feel at least a tad bit better. It flows a lot easier than my more plot heavy ones, and dealing with angst in fics when you're already feeling on edge can be quite serious. So for those of you who are still waiting for a LiaBC update, I'm sorry... I hope I will be able to write more on it soon. For now, this is really all I can deliver. It's simple and ridiculous, but hopefully enjoyable! Maybe this will cheer up someone else who's having a hard day today. I certainly hope so. 
> 
> Anyways, have fun reading!

 

Movie night with the Holts was probably the only social hangout Keith didn’t dread going to, and this weekend Matt had taken it all out. The theme for the evening was Harry Potter, and everyone had received a complementary hat and a cupcake with a color inside that represented their house. Keith’s was red, obviously. Anything else and he would be throwing a tantrum, which proved his point perfectly. Gryffindor through and through.

Since it was Saturday, Matt didn’t hold back on the snacks either. They had bacon crisps (which Keith stayed a good mile away from – no thanks, ma’am), popcorn, chips, licorice strings and cupcakes. Something for everyone and enough to have them all rolling out of the living room when they would finally end their séance the next morning. Good thing Shiro was off his diet, because he was gulfing on Lay’s like there was no tomorrow before the movie even started. Gross.

Though Keith enjoyed himself, and Pidge’s constant mimicking of the lines kept him entertained, he couldn’t help but feel a little down. He hadn’t heard from Lance all day, and as usual, his brain started making up reasons for why he didn’t text him. Bad reasons. Irrational reasons. Reasons that seemed so unlikely it was outright idiotic, but he still somehow believed them. Keith always seemed to dig himself into a hole that way.

Picking on a loose piece of fabric from the couch, Keith watched the movie absentmindedly, eyes darting to his phone alarmingly often. He really shouldn’t be thinking about this. It wasn’t a big deal. Lance was probably just busy, like last time. Keith couldn’t expect him to always be the one taking initiative.

Two hours later, in the middle of throwing popcorn into Pidge’s mouth, Keith’s phone finally beeped, distracting him enough to miss his friend’s face completely. She quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at him as he quickly picked up his phone and escaped to the bathroom, but didn’t say a word. She was suspicious, Keith knew; but at least she was mindful enough not to bring it up in front of his brother. He appreciated that.

 

**Message from Lance**

 

Keith’s lips quirked upward at the notification, and he sat down on the toilet seat to open it; full of a giddy anticipation he hadn’t previously known he was capable of feeling.

 

**Lance: Do u believe in evolution? ‘Cause my homo is erectus ;))))))**

**Lance: hah! Take that!**

**Lance: That was bad wasn’ id?**

**Lance: Lemme tre agen**

**Lance is typing…**

 

Ok, now Keith was confused. It wasn’t like Lance to be so… suggestive. Maybe someone had gotten a hold of his phone and wanted to play a prank. Someone with incredibly bad spelling. Before Keith had any time to contemplate however, a new message appeared, making him shift uncomfortably. How was he even supposed to respond to this?

 

**Lance: Are ye a button? ‘Caus I’d tap dat**

 

The message was followed by ten minutes of radio silence, and Keith didn’t know what to think. Unable to come up with an appropriate response, he settled for being his blunt self.

 

**K: Are you ok?**

 

It took a couple of minutes for him to reply, which was odd considering Lance usually typed ridiculously fast. Then again, everything seemed to be off about Lance tonight.

 

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: Amazenn**

**Lance: Jus doin som shots.**

**Lance: d strowbery ones r d best**

**Lance: strawbery***

**Lance: strawberry***

**Lance: I know how to write I swear**

 

Keith’s amused grunt was loud enough to attract Shiro from the living room, and he soon received a concerned brother at the door asking if he was ok in there. After convincing him that he was just fine, Keith picked up his phone from where he had dropped it when he burst out laughing. How had he been so incredibly dense? The simplest explanation was often the best one and Lance’s behavior clearly corresponded to being more than a little drunk. Even though Keith never drank himself, he should have spotted that from a mile away.

 

**K: How many shots did you take exactly?**

**Lance: Dunno, ask Hung**

**Lance: Hunk***

 

 _Yes Lance, I’m totally gonna ask your friend whose number I don’t have_. Keith rolled his eyes before replying. He then flushed the empty toilet and turned on the sink to pretend he was actually in the bathroom for a reason other than texting his… What was Lance to him really? No, Keith didn’t want to dive into that right now. Better not to dwell too much on it. That had never helped him in the past. He should just enjoy it while he could.

 

**K: I can’t do that though**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: Riiiit, I’ll ask.**

 

“We started the new movie without you because you’re hella slow!” Pidge yelled at him as he entered the living room, sitting up from where she had spread out all over their side of the couch. When Keith sat back down, she laid on top of him like an entitled cat, watching the movie without giving Keith so much as a recognizing glance. Huffing, he tried to pull her off to no avail, before he gave up and freed his hands to grab his phone. At least Pidge couldn’t watch what he typed from that angle. Maybe it was for the better. As Harry pulled up a model of the Hungarian Horntail from the burgundy bag, Keith heard the small buzz that signaled Lance’s response.

 

**Lance: Hunk says moar then 5, plus tequila**

 

Well, no wonder he was acting a bit different. Keith caught himself hoping that Lance’s friend took good care of him in his somewhat reduced state. From what Lance had told him, he seemed like a kind and compassionate person. He probably had nothing to worry about. Still, he couldn’t help but voice his concern.

 

**K: Thinking ‘bout maybe stopping?**

**Lance: I’m good, I were**

**Lance: wear***

**Lance: swear**

**Lance: ughhh**

 

Keith stifled a chuckle with his hand, his eyes roaming the room to see if anyone noticed. They all seemed caught up in the epic dragon vs. wizard scene. Good.

 

**K: Yeah, you’re totally good**

**Lance: don sass me mullet**

 

Mullet, really? His hair clearly didn’t read as 70’s David Bowie, or did it? Keith consciously twirled a lock of his hair around his pointer finger. Maybe it was time to cut it.

 

**K: Mullet?**

**Lance: Yes, ur hair**

**Lance: Mullet**

**K: It’s not a mullet, it’s just long-ish**

**Lance: Mullet**

**K: …**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: Is a cute mullet tho ;)**

 

Oh… _he thinks it’s cute?_ Lance always seemed to manage to shift the air around Keith in a matter of seconds. Seems he should keep the hair after all. Not that what Lance thought mattered that much to him. Absolutely not. Man, he wasn’t even able to fool himself anymore.

**K: You’re weird**

**Lance: And u like it**

**Lance: u liek me**

 

Was it that obvious? No. It was probably just the tequila speaking. Because the thought of Lance knowing that Keith maybe had a slight attraction to him (a _big_ understatement) was, well… Terrifying.

**K: What makes you think that?**

**Lance: u never stap answering me ;)))**

**K: Maybe because it’s funny to watch you make a fool of yourself?**

**Lance: ye, cause u liek me**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: I like u a lot**

**Lance: tmi**

**Lance: I take that bac**

 

It felt like a freight train had just punched Keith in the chest, and he had to reread the message thrice before it truly sank in. Someone this pretty, this charismatic, someone who could have literally anyone they wanted could not possibly be interested in him. If they ever did meet, Keith would surely be a huge disappointment to him, wouldn’t he? 

**K:… you do?**

**Lance: Why else would I bother doin dis?**

**K: … Idk, cause you think it’s fun to bother me?**

**Lance: that too**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: but srsly**

**Lance: ur hella cute**

**Lance: and sweet**

**Lance: and funny**

**Lance: and I really wish u’s stap teasin and just gimme ur name**

**Lance: and maybe a pic?**

**Lance: no pressure**

 

Keith thought he had been more than adamant about the whole “no pictures” thing, but with Lance being drunk he supposed he could forgive him for slipping up. Besides, he had just admitted to being interested in him. Keith should take it as a compliment, not stress about how Lance might feel about him after he receives said picture. Something so pedestrian really shouldn’t be a problem. Yet his next breath was caught in his throat, and he felt like he was slowly choking from the sensation, not quite ready to give up that wall of privacy he had put up. Soon, he decided. But not yet.

 

**K: idk…**

**Lance: brb, more shots**

 

Well, at least that put an effective end to the conversation. Keith paused in his movements to flicker his eyes up at the TV, noticing that Harry was now in the middle of the enchanted labyrinth with soon-to-be-dead Cedric Diggory. Shiro and Matt seemed too immersed in the movie to have paid any attention to him, but as he looked down, he saw Pidge’s eyes dart between him and his phone on the armrest. As usual, Keith’s reflexes were a tad bit too slow.

“I’m gonna figure out why you suddenly find your phone so interesting. You’ve been ruining my movie experience with that annoying tapping sound,” Pidge complained, but a triumphant expression was plastered across her face. She clearly didn’t mind as much as she tried to make it seem.

In less than a minute, Pidge had unlocked his phone and opened the app, and Keith cursed himself for not being precautious enough to change his pin code. In retrospect, he had literally asked for this to happen.

“I knew it! I knew there was something going on!” Pidge cheered, catching the attention of Matt and Shiro who both gave them curious glances. She then proceeded to pull up Lance’s profile pictures, zooming in on his abs like some crazy fan girl.

“Damn Keith, he’s cute. Waaay out of your league,” she added, smirking. Keith desperately tried to retrieve his phone, but Pidge had already passed it on to Matt and Shiro, who was now discussing whether this Lance guy seemed like a good person. Shiro would probably have a serious conversation with him later about how people on the internet weren’t always who they claimed to be. Keith was _not_ looking forward to that.

Lucky for him, Shiro stopped the two others from reading too far back, declaring that Keith deserved to have some privacy. Unfortunately, that all seemed to be forgotten when the chat pinged and Lance’s face popped up in the app’s notifications. Keith lunged forward, but Pidge hopped off the couch and ran to the other side of the room, snickering to herself as she read the message. Hunched over and with a manic expression in her eyes, she reminded Keith of Gollum after he first retrieved The One Ring. Not a pleasant sight.

 

**Message from Lance**

**Lance: ur lips look lonely… would they like to meet mine? ;)))**

 

 “OMG! Keith, this guy is so preciously ridiculous. You have to date him!” Pidge whined before running into the kitchen with Keith chasing her, hiding behind one of the barstools.

“Stop sneaking around and let me see the message!” Keith sighed, more exhausted than anything else. There was no reversing this. Now they all knew. But he had hoped he’d be able to at least stop Pidge from compromising him. It seemed that wasn’t working out the way he wanted.

“Nuh-huh! It’s time to get you a man, Kogane!” Defeated, Keith leaned against the kitchen counter, breathing heavily from the exertion. However, he did have enough energy to throw daggers at Pidge with his eyes. If only looks could kill, or at least incapacitate.

“Did I mention I hate you?” He mumbled through gritted teeth. Pidge only grinned widely in response.

“A couple of times.”

This was going to be the end of him, wasn’t it? Pidge was going to embarrass him to the point where Lance would never speak to him again. The familiar presence of anxiety trickled down his spine, making him shiver. It felt as if his soul would leave his body any second. _Please don’t embarrass me, please don’t embarrass me,_ he chanted internally, eyes never leaving the phone in Pidge’s hands as she typed.

Despite not looking away for even a split second, Keith was still surprised when his phone suddenly came flying through the air, aimed at his chest. He scrambled quickly and was able to catch it with trembling hands, sending another glare Pidge’s way in the process. She didn’t have to both ruin his only chance at dating _and_ ruin his phone. One of them was more than enough.

He was distracted from his inner plotting to kill the little devil by repeated pings coming from his phone. Whatever Pidge had said, it seemed to have made Lance go off, which couldn’t be good. Was he mad at him now? How was he supposed to explain this to him? Keith had to steel himself for a few seconds before looking down at the string of messages, and let out a loud gasp at what he found.

**K: Come on over and I’ll have that arranged**

**Lance: Wow! Smooth**

**Lance: Really wanna kiss u tho**

**Lance. Bet u taest good**

Pidge had actually did what she said she was going to do, and while it had been incredibly forward and way too flustering, Lance had actually responded to it. Not only that, he had continued to elaborate on how he wanted to _kiss him?_ How much tequila had this boy had? Clearly enough to severely cloud his judgement. Still, Keith’s mind immediately supplied him with images of Lance’s head leaning towards his, soft lips parted and tan cheekbones covered in a light shade of pink. Yeah, that would be great.

Snapping himself out of it, Keith once again wondered how Lance would feel about his actions in the morning. He was clearly not being himself right now. Would he freak out about Keith being so forward when he was obviously drunk and probably wouldn’t remember this conversation at all? This exchange wouldn’t be enough for him to stop messaging Keith, would it?

For Lance, this was probably not very serious. Most people didn’t take the whole “flirting on tinder”-thing seriously at all. However, Keith wasn’t most people. He tended to dive in headfirst without thinking about the consequences, only to realize his mistakes later on. He prayed this wasn’t one of those mistakes.

Something about the way Lance interacted with him made him feel so special. Keith had never had anyone pay this kind of attention to him before. In all honesty, it felt good. He didn’t want it to end.

Keith stopped replying after that, slumping back on the couch and refusing to meet Shiro and Matt’s worried eyes. Silently, they all went back to watching the movie, none of them really paying attention to the epic duel between Voldemort and The Chosen One. Wrapping himself in a blanket, Keith silently went through the messages one by one, dissecting them in his head.

Lance was messing around, wasn’t he? He probably drunk-texted many people like this, not just Keith. Yeah, lots of guys, probably some girls too. It was probably just a prank, or at least said without much sentiment attached. Regardless, a kiss was not a big deal to Lance, but Keith… For him it was serious. For him, thinking about someone like Lance actually wanting to kiss him was… He didn’t even know how to describe it. That tingling sensation in his chest, the light fluttering of his heart. It sucked that he had to get his hopes up.

 

__________________________________________________________________________

 

Lance didn’t send any more messages that night, but Keith received a flurry of them at about 12 pm the next day, clearly a result of hangover panic.

 

**Lance: Omg, I’m so sorry about last night**

**Lance: You probably hate me now, that was really crappy of me**

**Lance: I don’t want you to think you’re some kind of potential hook-up that I drunk text in hopes of getting laid or something…**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: I actually… really like you K. God that sounds weird. Wish I knew your real name**

**Lance: Anyway, I’m so sorry… I should probably just stop talking to you. I came on way too strong**

**Lance: If you don’t wanna talk anymore that’s totally fine. And I was way out of line asking for a picture… You’ve already made it clear that you don’t wanna do that**

**Lance: Just know that it’s all true. I do think you’re really cute. At least from what I can see. And you’re so fun to talk to and… nice and…**

**Lance: I’ll leave you alone now. I hope you find someone good. You deserve it**

 

Complete bafflement. That was Keith’s initial reaction. Then denial, and finally, acceptance. Because Lance was not drunk anymore. He was completely free of any reason to say these things without meaning them. There was no reason for him to add that section to his apology unless he meant it, and the impact of that completely knocked out Keith’s remaining brain cells. This wasn’t a joke, wasn’t some stupid mistake. Lance sounded completely genuine. Keith didn’t know if that scared or comforted him. He should be happy but… Where would they go from here? This kind of situation, someone reciprocating to whatever he was feeling for them. All of this was foreign to him. Keith didn’t know how to act, what to say.

Going over the messages again, his heart fired off tiny sparks in his chest that made him feel numb and over-stimulated simultaneously. As though he was feeling so much his body couldn’t take it all in. The final message echoed in his mind: **I’ll leave you alone now.** Did he mean that?

Keith pondered over what to do for hours, feeling guilty about Lance obviously knowing he’d been left on read by now. But he had no idea what to say, what to do. Why didn’t these things come with a manual? Keith would have given his left arm for a proper “How to get a boyfriend” guide, and not those stupid buzzfeed articles. He had read about 20 of them without feeling any wiser.

Deciding to bite the sour apple, he called out for his brother through the doorway, hoping Shiro wasn’t too busy with whatever he was up to. Despite his tendency to baby him, Shiro gave great life advice. Besides, he had a stable, loving relationship with another man, which by Keith’s standards made him an expert on this area. This conversation would no doubt be awkward, but Keith was convinced he needed it.

In less than two minutes, Shiro was outside his door, covered in an apron and smelling vaguely of burnt sugar. Judging from the state of the spatula in his hand, whatever he was cooking wasn’t going that well for him. Keith wasn’t too surprised.

“Haven’t I told you to let Adam and I handle the cooking? There’s leftovers in the fridge.”

Shiro scratched the back of his head nervously, “I just wanted to make pancakes…,” he said defensively, crossing his arms and huffing.

“And how did that go for you…?” Keith said, rolling his eyes at him for emphasis.

“Not so good…” Shiro murmured, eyes studying Keith’s socks rather than looking at him. It only took him a few seconds to return to his regular self, sitting down on Keith’s bedside and patting the spot next to him. “Now, sit down and talk about boys with your brother.”

“How did you know?”

“You’ve been mopey since last night, and I’m pretty sure that Lance guy has got at least something to do with it.” Keith sat down next to him, and Shiro’s arm came to wrap around his shoulder. The small act of comfort made Keith sink into his embrace, and Shiro merely smiled at him as he buried his face in the crook of his neck. He was right. This was humiliating.

“How much did you read last night? Of what Pidge showed you?” he mumbled into his shoulder, and Shiro smiled down at him softly.

“Enough to know you’re more serious about this boy than you want to admit. I’ve never seen you have such long conversations with someone, not even Pidge.” His voice carried a hint of a tease, but mostly it was filled with genuine compassion and comfort.

“Is it even possible...? You know… to..?” Keith had a hard time getting his words out, but Shiro seemed to catch on.

“To fall for someone without ever having met?” Keith nodded hesitantly. “A lot of people do that these days.”

“And do you think it’s possible that he might actually..?” Keith looked up at his brother hesitantly, letting his eyes do the rest of the talking. He was scared of any repercussions that could come from saying it aloud. As if that would somehow ruin it.

“Have you asked him?”

Keith shook his head, but added “but he said he did, earlier. I just don’t know if I should believe it. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“What if it does?” Shiro flipped his question on the head, and Keith realized he had never thought of it that way. Would he want to waste the possibility of having something like that?

Moving to stand up, Shiro locked eyes with him, smiling that fatherly smile that never failed to break down his walls.

“It’s your choice Keith. Just make sure you don’t base your actions on fear. You’re gonna end up regretting it.” Then he sauntered off into the kitchen as if their conversation never happened, soon humming quietly as he scrubbed the spatula beneath the spray of the sink. _Brothers._

It was obvious that Shiro wanted him to confess to the guy, but Keith wasn’t sure he was capable of that right now. Still, he wanted to share more of himself, to explore where this might lead them. Compromising, he picked up his phone, angling it above his face. It had been quite a while since he had taken a selfie, and he found himself ruffling his hair and moving his head to test out different angles. He also made sure not to include his Mothman bedsheets. Some things were meant to be secret.

Quickly scrolling through the photos that had piled up, he picked the one that seemed most decent by first glance, and sent it before he could afford to change his mind. He then proceeded to leave his phone on the nightstand so he could clutch onto his pillow, heart racing. The anticipation was killing him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to see what Lance might answer. He wasn’t ready.

 

**K sent a photo.**

**K: It’s ok. And btw, the K is for Keith.**

 

Turning off his notifications, Keith went to bed and crawled up under the sheets, trying his best to think of anything but Lance and the message he had just sent. It didn’t really work. _Will he like it? God, why is this such a big deal to me? I just… Ughhh_

He kept pondering and worrying until his eyelids got too heavy and slowly slipped closed, and soon he was lightly snoring, drifting off into a dreamless slumber.

 

* * *

 

**Message from Lance**

**Lance: Keith, huh? Well Keith, I was right. Your eyes really do look like shining stars <3**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little snippet of klance. I will keep uploading this story as often as I can. 
> 
> If you did like it, please leave a kudos or comment below, or maybe even a bookmark if you're generous. I really appreciate it! And thank you to all the people that have subscribed, there's so many of you despite the low hit rate - I'm truly amazed! 
> 
> Sidenote: anyone else wishing considerate guys like Lance actually existed on tinder? *raises hand* There's a reason I stopped using the app long ago. 
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr: @sasusoul 
> 
> Until next time!


	4. Popping the question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance’s eyes were like deep, crystal blue oceans. Bright, enticing; full of emotion and mystery. In the sunlight, they glistened like dewdrops on fresh spring leaves, taking the focus of every picture. Stealing the spotlight. Pools it was impossible not to drown in. Keith was pretty sure he would die if he saw them live. 
> 
> Speaking of, if Keith was looking around campus a little more meticulously this morning, this was most definitely not the reason. Spring was in season, and all he wanted was to watch the flowers bloom in the gardens and take in the fresh spring air; he was absolutely not looking to see if he could spot a certain tan boy among the masses of students rushing to their classes. And he was taking the detour around the dance building solely because he… Wait, why was he walking through here again? It was certainly not in hopes of running into Lance, he convinced himself, rushing through the park towards his lecture hall, suddenly feeling very exposed. 
> 
> *  
> In which Keith.exe stops working from Lance overdose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back! I was supposed to keep the chapters in this fic short and cute to be able to upload frequently, but they seem to grow progressively longer each time... Hopefully this won't be an issue later on, I was really hoping to stick more to 3-4 k for once. Oh well.
> 
> This chapter, like all the others, is jut me messing about, letting this story take me wherever it wants to go. I'm realizing I might have to do some lyric writing for later chapters tho... *slight panic* I'll figure it out I guess, the sideplot is moving on its own. 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

 

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Keith squealed a little when he read the message next morning. His eyes? Like shining stars? The way Lance complimented him made Keith question the guy’s sanity. Someone as bland and boring as Keith was, catching his attention to the point where he bothered to talk to him at all was a mystery in and of itself. Lance actively flirting with him and seemingly finding him both attractive and interesting… honestly Keith was wondering when the devil would show up at the door to collect his end of the bargain. It was just too good to be true.

Pidge hadn’t been wrong when she said Keith was punching. Lance was… Had the guy even seen himself? Never mind Keith’s eyes; they were grey, dull and boring. In certain lighting, they would get a slight purple shine to them, but it was really nothing special. Lance’s eyes though. They were something else entirely.

Lance’s eyes were like deep, crystal blue oceans. Bright, enticing; full of emotion and mystery. In the sunlight, they glistened like dewdrops on fresh spring leaves, taking the focus of every picture. Stealing the spotlight. Pools it was impossible not to drown in. Keith was pretty sure he would die if he saw them live.

Speaking of, if Keith was looking around campus a little more meticulously this morning, this was most definitely not the reason. Spring was in season, and all he wanted was to watch the flowers bloom in the gardens and take in the fresh spring air; he was absolutely not looking to see if he could spot a certain tan boy among the masses of students rushing to their classes. And he was taking the detour around the dance building solely because he… Wait, why was he walking through here again? It was certainly _not_ in hopes of running into Lance, he convinced himself, rushing through the park towards his lecture hall, suddenly feeling very exposed.

The morning lecture was a blur to him. All Keith could think about was Lance. How soft his brown hair looked, how undoubtedly angelic his laugh had to sound like, the playful glint in his eyes. He was smitten; there was no doubt about it. So smitten in fact that he had forgotten to reflect on a very important matter, a matter he recalled dreadfully when he saw Miss Adinbury approach him in the hallway, her white pumps clacking against the tiled flooring. Somehow, he always ended up looking at them rather than her face, no matter how friendly she treated him. He supposed it was her position of power that made him anxious, because deep down he knew the woman wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“Keith, do you have a minute?” she chimed, picking up her pace, the clacking of her pumps intensifying, reminding Keith of heavy tap dancing. The sound was a bit unnerving to him, blocking out other noises from his system, making his breath hitch in anticipation for what was to come.

He didn’t reply, just stopped in his tracks to allow her to catch up. Then they strolled down the hall towards his next class together, the silence heavy and uncomfortable like thick rainclouds above them.

“About my offer from before,” she started, and Keith nodded, none of them needing any further confirmation from the other to know where the conversation was going, “Have you decided yet?” Keith bit his lip hard from the nervousness, almost drawing blood, before shaking his head slowly, avoiding to meet her gaze.

“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” she smiled softly at him, “But like I said earlier, I would strongly advise you to try it.” Keith nodded, knowing she was right about this being a major opportunity for him, but too constrained by his anxiety to be able to consider it properly. All that popped up in his head was that massive crowd booing and laughing at him, the image making his chest tighten as though someone was tying an undersized corset around his waist, pulling until his ribs felt like they were breaking, puncturing his lungs.

“When do you need an answer?” he managed to choke out, his voice smoother than expected. She threw him an enigmatic smile, placing something that looked like a small magazine in his hands.

“Within the next two weeks. In the meantime, I would advise you to read this. It gives ample information about last year’s event. So you know what to expect.” Looking down, Keith realized he was carrying a tiny brochure, seemingly containing the program, concept and outline for last year’s exhibition. This somehow settled his pounding heart just a little. These things were always a bit more manageable when he had something concrete to examine, instead of assumptions conjured by anxiety and distress. With this, he had a chance to picture what the experience might actually be like, pulling his focus away from his irrational fear of failure.

Promising to read it and make an informed decision, Keith headed to his next class, burying the thoughts of both the exhibition and his tinder flirt in the back of his mind. He needed to focus to have any hope of getting a decent grade in Digital Composition.

 

* * *

 

Lunch came around, and as usual, Pidge and Keith headed towards their regular coffee shop to clear and reset their minds before afternoon classes. At 12 pm on the dot, Keith’s phone chimed, and Pidge snickered knowingly as he fumbled through his pockets to find it. _Lance_.

Feeling his lips curl upwards, Keith opened tinder and pressed the notification, his stomach swirling with anticipation. They hadn’t chatted since Keith sent him the selfie, and he hoped Lance wasn’t upset about him not responding to his compliment earlier. He wasn’t too good at this whole flirting ordeal, besides, it didn’t really read as a message that needed a reply. 

 

**Lance: Let me tie your shoes, cause I don’t want you falling for anyone else ;)**

 

Keith chuckled softly. Yeah, like that was going to happen. He was head over heels from just a few texts. Hopelessly pining for a guy he hadn’t even met. Lance had absolutely nothing to worry about, and for once, Keith knew exactly how to reply.

 

**Keith: It’s not my fault that I fell for you, you tripped me!**

 

As expected, it took Lance a couple of minutes longer than usual to reply, which Keith saw as a small victory. In a moment of triumph, he even showed his message to Pidge, who nodded approvingly, clearly both impressed and surprised by Keith’s smoothness. Had he finally managed to fluster Lance the way he had flustered Keith every single day? From his reply, it sure seemed that way. Keith was walking on sunshine.

 

**Lance: … Wow. Ok, you’re getting too good at this. No more lessons.**

**Keith: hehe**

 

Placing his phone back in his pocket, Keith followed Pidge through the sliding doors of Marmora Coffee “A Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe Corporation”, the neon orange mustache-shaped sign starkly contrasting the soft blue interior. The owner himself was present today, flying between tables to chat with students and make sure they were satisfied with their orders. Despite his eccentric manners and prudish British accent, Coran was loved by all his customers, and always made sure to listen to their feedback when launching new products or scheduling opening hours. The only things he insisted on keeping were his hideous orange signs, which by now had turned iconic for that exact reason. He definitely knew how to run a successful business.

While in line for the coffee, Pidge noticed the brochure poking out of his jean pocket, and raised a questioning brow at him. “I’ll show you when we sit down,” he said, moving his attention back to the barista, who was now expediting the customer in front of them. She nodded, satisfied with his answer.

Normally, there were set shifts on the café, and a lovely young woman with sparkling blue eyes and silvery hair used to operate the register whenever Pidge and Keith came by during daytime. Today however, she seemed to be absent, and in her place was an equally cheerful dark-skinned boy, probably around Keith’s age. He was both broad and tall, wearing a yellow and white-specked bandana tied around his forehead. His apron was full of flour, suggesting that he normally worked in the back room, probably preparing pastries and other confections. If he was the one who made those delicious donuts… Keith had to admit the man was talented.

As the girl in front of him moved to the side and their gazes met, Keith saw the man instinctively jerk backwards, almost tripping over his own feet. _Weird_ , he thought. Why was this guy so jumpy around him? He quickly peeked down at his nametag: _Hunk_. Why did that sound so awfully familiar?

Keith ordered his double espresso and Pidge’s matcha latte (she was in a specific mood) and watched as the barista expertly got their cups out and popped off the lid of his pen with his teeth, eyeing Keith expectantly.

“Who should I make it out to?” he asked, his smile wide and infectious.

“umm… Keith,” Keith mumbled, internally cursing at himself for somehow managing to be hesitant about his own name. However, that didn’t last long, as his attention soon shifted to yet another display of weird behavior from the barista. Seemingly forgetting that he had an audience, he clenched his fist triumphantly and lifted it, accompanied by a silent cry.

“I knew it!” Ok, this guy just entered top five of the weirdest people Keith had ever encountered. What was his deal?

Remembering he was actually in a public space, Hunk awkwardly lowered his fist again, scribbling Keith’s name down on the cups in silence. The other customers quickly went back to chatting amongst each other, forgetting about the situation entirely, while Keith and Pidge exchanged confused looks.

“umm yes. Keith. Hope I spelled that right…” the barista mumbled nervously, eyeing Keith with an apologetic look, “Your order will be right up, my dude.” He then proceeded to stumble his way into the back room, making Pidge burst out laughing.

“Do you know him?” she asked, adjusting her glasses as they slipped down her nose. Keith shook his head.

“Never seen him before in my life.”

“Strange,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip, “I almost thought he recognized you there for a second.” Shrugging her shoulders, she plopped down by the nearest table to wait for their order, opening the exhibition brochure she had somehow snuck out of Keith’s pocket. Grinning as wide as the Cheshire cat, she turned the pages rapidly, skimming through the contents.

“She has circled some sections. Probably because she thinks they’re relevant to you. She also added a cute smiley-face on the first page, with a supportive message and all. Your Professor seems nice.” Keith groaned, snapping the brochure from Pidge’s hands.

“Why do you always have to take my stuff without permission?” he said accusingly, and was met with yet another shrug.

“You told me you’d show me later. It’s later now. Ergo, I have your permission,” then she smirked, grabbing the brochure and spreading it open for both of them to read.

“This seems so cool! And the stage isn’t as big as I thought it would be. Judging from the way the curtain drapes around the sides of it, you might not even see half of the audience,” Pidge said, throwing him a reassuring smile, “Matt has been to one of these before, listening to a friend of his, and he said the acoustics were great.”

“Have you told Matt about this???” Keith could feel his legs shaking, and knew his voice was way too high for a private conversation. The girls in the booth next to them turned to glare at him, and he sank into his chair, feeling both betrayed and embarrassed.

“What? No! Why would I do that?” Pidge snapped back, “I just asked him about the show, he doesn’t know the context. I’m not stupid,” she added, rolling her eyes. And just from that, Keith’s pulse dropped from 200 to a near normal pace again. It didn’t seem like a big deal, sure, but if Matt knew, Shiro knew, and Keith hadn’t quite figured out how to handle him yet.

Keith didn’t need a lecture to understand how detrimental this could be to his education and career, and he needed time to decide _on his own_ whether or not to take this opportunity. Adding another person to the mix would just make the situation worse. He didn’t want to live with the guilt of possibly disappointing his brother.

 _Shiro gives good advice,_ a voice reminded him, _he only has your best interests in mind._ Of course, Keith knew that, but he still felt like there was so much weight on his shoulders right now. He didn’t have room for a third opinion, he could barely handle Pidge’s, and she was mostly joking around.

“But on a serious note, Keith, I really think you should give it a shot. I know this is hard for you, but no one is trying to set you up for failure. Your Professors, the listeners, me, Shiro; everyone wants you to succeed.” Keith knew deep down that she was right; the only one setting him up for failure was himself. He was his own biggest saboteur, as he had always been.

“I’m considering it,” he murmured, before adding, “And I’m not just saying that to switch the subject or stop you from talking, I really am.” Pidge seemed satisfied with that, and if she wasn’t, at least she didn’t point it out. Maybe because the barista from earlier called out their order over the speakers and she rushed to get it, probably caffeine-starved by now with how much of an addict she was. Weren’t all college students though?

*Beep*

Keith reached into his jacket pocket and fetched his phone, smiling at the notification from Lance. They had only stopped talking like; fifteen minutes ago. To know that he appreciated Keith’s (online) company so much made him all giddy inside.

 

**Lance: Hope you’re enjoying your coffee ;)**

Wait! What? Was he here? Keith started frantically running his hands through his hair to make it look less spiky and tangled and more appropriate. This wasn’t how he wanted his first meeting with Lance to go; he wasn’t prepared! Not to mention Pidge was here to make a fool out of him, which didn’t bode well at all. No, no, no. He looked like he hadn’t showered in days, and the bags under his eyes from morning classes was humongous. But if Lance had already seen him, he couldn’t run away. That would look even worse. What a dilemma.

 

**Lance: Shit, I seem like a total stalker now, don’t I?**

**Keith: Kinda. Are you around here?**

He sighed in relief as he saw the reply.

 

**Lance: Not really. I have an anonymous source ;)**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: Fuck, now I sound even more like a stalker. It’s not like that, I swear.**

A whistling sound caught Keith’s attention, and he looked up to see Pidge smirking knowingly at him, carrying their drinks on a small tray. He mumbled “thanks” and took a sip, swearing he saw someone peeking at him from behind the counter. That barista sure was a weirdo.

“Loverboy texting you again?” Pidge wiggled her brows suggestively, making small kissing noises. Keith went for a different tactic this time around, ignoring her completely. Swatting her off with his hand like an annoying fly, he went back to texting again.

 

**Keith: I’ll believe you, although it’s kinda creepy.**

**Lance: No worries. My friend works at the café, he saw you coming in.**

_Hunk_ , his mind supplied, and suddenly everything fell into place. Hunk, Lance’s friend who apparently looked out for him when he was drunk the other day, was also Hunk the weird barista who freaked out when Keith came to the counter to order. Still, how would he even recognize Keith? They had never met.

 

**Keith: How does he know how I look..?**

**Lance: I might’ve talked about you… A little. A lot. An embarrassing amount. Sorry.**

How did Lance always manage to sound like he was rambling even though it was over text? And how come it was always so incredibly cute? Keith’s heart couldn’t survive this. It was too much.

Lance had told his friends about him? Even Keith couldn’t read that as anything but a good sign. And judging by how enthusiastic Hunk was, and the fact the he contacted Lance right away, things had to being going well between them, right? The pulsing of his heart made his ribcage vibrate, sending electric shivers through his entire body. Right now, he didn’t even care about the amused look Pidge was throwing him from across the table as she lifted her mug, saluting him in the process. All that mattered was Lance.

 

**Keith: Don’t be.**

**Keith: You might wanna get yourself a better stalker though. Your friend is anything but subtle; I thought he might’ve had a stroke or something.**

 

Looking up, Keith and Hunk’s eyes met as he caught him in action, and he scrambled to his feet from where he had been leaning over the counter observing him, clearly flustered. Keith chuckled as he started preparing a new portion of whipped cream, deliberately looking in every direction but his. Although strange, the guy seemed nice. Keith hoped their next meeting wouldn’t be as awkward. If they met again, that was. He shouldn’t let his wishful thinking get ahead of himself.

 

**Lance: I know. It’s one of the things we have in common. We’re both adorable idiots ;)**

Well, Keith agreed, Lance was certainly adorable.

 

**Lance: Enjoy your coffee!**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: I would’ve joined you, but I have an assignment whipping me to work over here. Besides, I don’t wanna take this stalker thing too far, might scare you away.**

“What’s so funny? I swear he makes you laugh all the time. Am I not fun enough for you anymore, Kogane?” Pidge said in mock offense, splaying a hand across her chest as she let out a dramatic gasp. When Keith ignored her again, she simply switched to the seat next to him, peeking over at his phone as if she had the neck of a giraffe.

“Does the word privacy mean anything to you?” Keith scoffed, but still tilted his phone in Pidge’s direction.

“Nope,” she smiled, enthusiastically reading the messages on screen, “Well, aren’t you gonna answer him? Can’t be that fun to be the one doing all the talking!”

Keith shrugged and typed back, not really thinking twice about his response. Not until Pidge grinned and said, “good move, dude!” making him wonder what exactly his text could be interpreted as.

 

**Keith: Maybe some other time**

 

Right. That was a bit more forward than he had aimed for. Not that he didn’t want to meet Lance sometime, but the crippling fear of rejection hung over him like a tall shadow, making him doubt himself, usually hindering him from doing stuff like, well, what he’d just done. If you don’t show your vulnerabilities, you can’t be hurt. That was why Keith always kept them locked up. However, Lance always seemed to know where the key was, making Keith open the doors one by one, breaking his own rules time and time again. It was both scary and exhilarating.

 

**Lance: Don’t you dare get my hopes up ;)**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: On a more serious note. I’m free for lunch on Friday, and there’s this really cute guy I wanna impress. Do you think he’d be up for pancakes and maybe sharing a milkshake? <3 **

Keith froze; his brain unable to process what had just happened. If felt as though his heart stopped and he was going into a Lance-induced coma. _Did he just…?_ Keith peeked down at the message again, reading it twice more.

 _He really just did that. Wow…_ His brain seemed to have short-circuited as well, leaving his thoughts to simmer like a complex stew, mixing and intertwining until it was all an unrecognizable mush. On one hand, this was exactly what he wanted, on the other…

_Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes! Wait, no! What am I supposed to wear? What if he doesn’t like me? What if I say yes and he’s just joking? How am I supposed to act? I’ve never been on a fucking date before! What do you do? What do you say? Ok, Keith. Calm down. Be rational. Breathe through your mouth._

 “Say yes, come on! Say yes!” Pidge cheered in the background, nearly jumping off her seat from excitement. Great, he had almost forgotten that she was still there.

“Calm down! This isn’t a reality TV-show,” he snapped at her, but there was no real malice in his tone, just mild annoyance. He was way too busy freaking out about his potential date to let her rub him the wrong way.

“You’re right, it’s even better! I get to see you all hot and bothered,” she snickered, rubbing her hands together with a devious glint in her eyes. Keith glared at her, putting a hand up to cover his now red cheeks. Pidge could be such a bother sometimes. She knew him too well.

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: FYI, the cute guy is you**

If Keith had been red before, he was positively boiling now, the ripples from his heart sending shockwaves through his body, leaving him both dumbstruck and breathless. Pidge nudged him, making an impatient typing motion with her hands. When that didn’t work, she started waving her hand back and forth across his blank face.

“Hey, Earth to Keith. You there man?” He blinked successively, slowly returning from whatever land Lance’s spell had cast him into.

“huh?” he said unintelligibly, tilting his head in Pidge’s direction.

“Wow, he really did cut your fuse with whatever that was,” she said, but made no move to peek this time, finally respecting his privacy.

After taking a minute to compose himself, Keith could finally appreciate the sparks igniting a cozy bonfire inside him, warming him up and making him soft and fuzzy. Yes, this was a time to be happy, not to overreact and worry about meaningless nonsense. Finally typing out his reply, Keith reached out for a sip of coffee, only to realize it had gone cold. It didn’t matter though, he was already more than warm enough inside.

 

**Keith: … I’d like that** **:)** **12?**

**Lance: Sounds great! Can’t wait! <3**

**Keith:** **:)**

“Umm, Keith? I know that this is a bad time to break your mood, but our classes started like, five minutes ago."

“Oh fuck!”

As he ran through the rain towards the main building, a big grin plastered on his lips despite being both cold and soaked, ready to face his no doubt furious Musical History Professor, Keith decided nothing could ruin such a beautiful day. Not even this.

 

* * *

 

Though it was old and normally harder to tune properly, Keith preferred the old, blue acoustic guitar left to him by his father. He had several others he could use, both electric and classic ones, but playing them didn’t give him the same calmness and satisfaction, relieving his anxiety and dissipating the tension in the room.

Every night since he started college, he had been sitting here, playing simple tunes his father taught him in his youth, trying not to dwell too much on the memories they carried. Instead, he let the soft melodies enclose him, fill his room with light and drive away heavy thoughts. Like always, he soon drifted off on a tangent, letting his hands roam over the strings and create a melody of their own, far from the original tune, but with the same emotion embedded in it.

Then he started humming softly on top of the chords, adding layers and dimension to his work, stopping occasionally to write down the keys and outline possible harmonies. Keith felt peaceful like this, in his own private headspace, creating music solely for his own entertainment. The thought of anyone else listening was non-existent. For in this world of music, there was only Keith. This was where he belonged.

Humming turned to singing. Improvised words and sentences, accompanied by drawn out letters and simple crooning where he lacked structure. Whenever he particularly enjoyed something, he repeated the part before writing it down, softly humming while he processed the words, nibbling lightly at his pencil.

Creating good lyrics had been difficult lately, and he had several instrumentals ready that merely needed to be filled with the right words. However, inspiration didn’t seem to strike, and he mostly ended up erasing the words he wrote down as he progressed, which sucked since he had fallen in love with the melodies. Maybe he just needed more time.

Sighing, he put down the notebook and took another bite of his sandwich. The bread had grown a little stale from staying open for the past three hours, but Keith wasn’t too picky. It still tasted nicely of avocado, tomatoes and fresh green pesto, and as he chewed he realized just how hungry he had really been. Keith had a tendency to lose all sense of time and place when he played. That was the main reason he enjoyed it so much. It was the perfect escape from the world.

The front door creaked as it opened, and heavy feet made their way into the hall. Keith listened as Shiro brushed off his shoes and put down the groceries to remove his jacket. Seemed there would be no more privacy for writing tonight.

As his brother walked into the kitchen, balancing three plastic bags in his hands, Keith heard a faint *ping* from his phone, and reached out to pick it up from the floor, disrupting his note sheets in the process. His lips quirked up as he touched the notification, his heart softly thrumming with suspense.

 

**Lance: So, what are you doing on this lovely spring evening?**

Keith’s hands acted on his own accord, typing out the word before he had time to reflect on it.

 

**Keith: Writing**

**Lance: Like essay writing? That sucks… I feel sorry for you.**

**Keith: No… Actually, lyric writing. But I’m struggling a bit**

**Lance is typing…**

Keith looked down at the messages in bewilderment. Since when did he talk to others about his music? That was such a private topic to him. Yet somehow, Lance being on the other end of the line made it less terrifying and more exciting. Another small part of himself to share, another piece of the puzzle they were building together; slowly getting to know each other better.

**Lance: Wow, you write your own songs? That’s so cool!**

**Keith: Well, I’m trying. And thanks**

**Lance: I bet you have an amazing voice**

**Keith: …**

**Lance: Speechless? I do that to people sometimes ;)**

God, Lance went from prince charming to cheesy dork in a matter of seconds, but he still managed to make Keith both embarrassed and a little flattered. How would he even survive being face to face with him?

 

 _Shit!_ The sudden reminder of their upcoming date made his heart swell to twice its size, his chest flooded with warmth. Meeting Lance in person. Not only that but going on a date with him. Keith sure was a lucky guy.

 

**Lance: Anyway, I’m supposed to be rehearsing with Romelle and she’s getting kinda annoyed so… talk to you later?**

**Keith: sure**

**Lance: bye Keith <3 **

**Keith: bye**

Just as Keith pulled his phone to his chest, sighing happily, Shiro had to come and ruin the mood, waving a familiar piece of paper in front of his face, eyes gleaming with eagerness.

“A talent exhibition? That’s so cool, Keith! When were you gonna tell me about this?” he grinned widely, but soon turned puzzled as Keith snatched the flyer from his hand, hiding it behind his back. He gathered his notes in a pile next to him as well, for good measure. A curious Shiro was a dangerous Shiro, and Keith didn’t want him to start feeling entitled to stick his nose in his business like Pidge did. One was more than enough, thank you very much.

“Preferably never,” he mumbled, and his brother pouted before dropping down next to him.

“Am I really that terrible?” he asked half-jokingly, but Keith could sense a hint of sadness in his voice, “I just want what’s best for you, Keith. You know that, right? And no matter what choices you make, I’ll always be proud of you,” he added, trying to alleviate some of the tension in the room. Keith nodded, before leaning in to drop his head on Shiro’s shoulder, clinging to his arm like he used to when they were kids.

“I just don’t know yet, ok? It’s such a big decision. And it’s scary. I didn’t wanna disappoint you by backing out like I always do… Still, I don’t know if I can do this. That stage, all those people, I… I’d just choke and make a fool of myself.” He felt a firm hand come down and squeeze his shoulder, and looked up to meet Shiro’s soft, black eyes.

“Everything in life comes with a risk. You want to live off your music, don’t you?” Keith nodded, his resolve still hadn’t changed; music was everything to him. Music was his life. “Well, then you gotta take risks. Instead of asking yourself what could go wrong, you should be focused on what opportunities you might be missing. What if that stage is where you truly come to life as a performer? What if it’s not your potential downfall, but a stepping-stone towards your dream? Wouldn’t you wanna take that chance?”

Keith only responded by gripping him tighter, and they stayed in that embrace for a while, Shiro softly running a hand through his unruly hair. His presence was comforting and calm, almost sedative in the way it slowed down Keith’s heartbeat and cleared his clouded vision, giving him a new perspective on the situation. He knew Shiro was right; he always was. Still, Keith was the only one who could make this decision. He was the one who needed to overcome his fears and take a stand, not Shiro. But Shiro could help guide him through it. He and Pidge, and Miss Adinbury, Matt, Adam, and maybe even Lance. Everyone was standing on the sidelines, ready to assist him, eager to cheer him on; Keith just had to let them.

“Thanks, Shiro,” he said finally, detaching from his arm, “I guess that’s one of the reasons why it’s so hard. Deep down I know I would never forgive myself for missing out on something like that. Fear shouldn’t keep me from doing what I wanna do, I know that, but… I guess it’s just something I have to work on.” Shiro smiled sympathetically at him.

“You’ve come a long way by just admitting that to yourself, you know? It’ll work out just fine.” Shiro stood up, helping Keith to his feet as well, pulling him into a big hug. Keith smiled into his neck, feeling the familiar scent of aftershave he didn’t know if belonged to Shiro or Adam anymore. Regardless, it smelled like home. Shiro strutted more than walked to the door, clearly pleased with himself. Before he exited, he turned to face him, a sly grin playing on his lips, his mood completely different from mere seconds earlier.

“Oh by the way, I met Pidge at the store earlier,” he said in a singsong voice, “Congrats on the date! Do you need any tips? I happen to be an expert!” then he proceeded to wiggle his brows and blow a kiss at Keith, transforming him from pale to tomato in record time.

“Leave. _Now!_ ” Keith grunted, shoving Shiro hard with both arms, making him frantically grip the doorway for support as he staggered into the hall, his smile just as wide and cocky. As it was about to slam shut, he threw him a thumbs up, and Keith responded by sticking his tongue out like a brat, using so much force on the door it nearly squashed Shiro’s fingers.

“See? I told you it would work out!” he chimed from the other side.

“Fuck you!” Keith yelled, but now that the door had closed behind him, he was smiling as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is such a dork and Keith is just a flustered mess. Also, I've realized Shiro and Keith's relationship is literally just me and my little sister. I'm such a dork to her sometimes, and vice versa. 
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter! I will be going on summer vacation soon, and I rarely ever see my family anymore, so this might mean less updates, though I'm hoping to keep writing throughout. Also, I'm still kinda in the middle of an anxious period, so bear with me here. 
> 
> If you want, you can find me on Tumblr: @sasusoul 
> 
> As always, kudos, bookmarks and comments are appreciated! I would also recommend to subscribe to this fic if you're interested, as I rarely have a set update schedule. 
> 
> Cross promotion: If you like my work, please check out my baby "Love is a Binary Code", a Klance fic set in the Detroit Become Human universe. You don't need to have played the game to enjoy reading it, I explain everything in detail as we go along. I would love for you to read and rate it! 
> 
> (It's a match is slowly becoming my second baby now... I'm taking this way more seriously than I planned on doing, lol)


	5. Your lips look lonely...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey Keith, can you hold something for me?” Keith nodded in slight confusion. Lance certainly wasn’t carrying anything, so what was it that he wanted him to hold? 
> 
> The answer came in the form of bare fingers intertwining with gloved ones, giving Keith’s hand a firm squeeze as he grinned. 
> 
> “Sorry, sorry… That was way too cheesy. I’ve just always wondered how that works in real life.” Then his grip loosened, letting Keith decide whether to accept the gesture or not, an unmistakable pink hue striking his cheeks as Keith squeezed back.  
> *
> 
> Basically, Keith and Lance go on the cheesiest date in history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Or... Kinda? There might be a while until I upload again, as I have a few fics I have been neglecting for way too long (I'm so sorry to whomever might be reading those). I have a desperate need to catch up with at least some of those before I update this again. But worry not, I'm beyond excited for this fic and will certainly not be abandoning it. I just might have to be gone for a month or so (like I did just now for my summer vacation) :) 
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy this short cheese-fest as Lance and Keith are v adorable on their first date. About time.

Friday couldn’t have come around faster, and suddenly Keith found himself rummaging through his closet to look for something to wear for his date – disheveled and with no system whatsoever. Maybe he should have tried meeting someone he didn’t really care about first, because the thought of Lance being his first date was beyond terrifying, sending spikes of nervousness and anxiety up his spine.

Shiro and his boyfriend Adam helped Keith pick an outfit from his somewhat limited and very black wardrobe. After thorough convincing, Keith agreed to wear some color, picking out a simple burgundy shirt alongside his black skinny jeans. Fixing his ponytail in the mirror, he subtly started playing with the barbell in his left ear, hesitantly glancing at his studs.

“Ummm… Shiro?”

“Yes?” he replied, entering through the doorway, his trademark soft smile plastered on his face.

“…Should I take them out? Maybe he doesn’t like…” Shiro interrupted him before he could even finish the sentence.

“Never compromise who you are for someone else. He needs to like you for you, or else this won’t work out anyway.” Keith nodded subtly, removing his hand from his ear to reach into the bathroom cabinet, pulling out his favorite silver earring.

“That’s more like it,” Shiro praised him as he put it on, and Keith couldn’t help but feel more confident. Yes, this was him. Take it or leave it. Lance didn’t seem like a judgmental person, and if he was, Keith was better off without him.

As he waved goodbye to Shiro and mounted his bike, Keith felt his heart racing, and wondered, not for the first time that week, what on Earth it was he had gotten himself into. This was so unlike him. Keith Kogane with sweaty hands and a high pulse, so excited he had to hold himself back from racing through town to see his date, but at the same time so terrified he needed to force himself to stop and not set off on the highway going anywhere but here. So many conflicting emotions. Happiness, exhilaration, nervousness. Anxiety, panic, affection. It was as though all his feelings were having a massive boxing fight in his head and all he could do was watch as they knocked each other out of the ring with no signs of mercy. Chaos in its purest form.

He parked his bike and headed for their meeting place, an old, crookedly oak outside the main Campus building. Though many people were coming and going, Keith spotted Lance almost instantly. How couldn’t he? There was something utterly alluring about the Cuban boy. Besides, the black, glittering beanie he had on literally screamed Lance; Keith couldn’t think of anyone else who could wear such a disastrous piece of clothing yet look so ridiculously gorgeous. Fortunately, he had his back turned, because Keith was sure he had been gawking.

As if on cue, Lance turned around, flashing the brightest smile Keith had ever witnessed, arms opening in a welcoming gesture.

“Hi, Keith!” he waved enthusiastically, running over to meet him halfway. Keith raised his arm in an awkward salute, suddenly very aware he had a body and didn’t know how to move it properly.

“Hey...”

Before Keith had time to reflect on his nervousness, however, a pair of strong, tan arms wrapped him up in a warm hug, the scent of cinnamon and fresh sea breeze hitting his nostrils and nearly knocking him out. How was it even possible to smell that good? Oh god, he was supposed to be hugging him back, wasn’t he? Keith tentatively lifted his arm to wrap it around Lance’s waist, earning him a soft chuckle.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, Keith still unsure of how to respond. Hugs were not his forte. He usually preferred handshakes, or lack of any physical contact at all. But Lance, Keith decided, Lance could hug him any time he wanted if it was going to feel this good.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Lance said, pulling back from their embrace. Keith wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or sad that it ended. “You doing ok?” The way Lance tilted his head with a soft smile, looking both curious and adorable, reminded Keith of Tweety Bird, and he couldn’t help but smile back, a delicious warmth spreading through his body.

“Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Even better now you’re here.” Keith had tried his best to prepare for Lance’s flirtatious advances, telling himself that he couldn’t possibly be as smooth in real life. Turns out, he was wrong. Making it worse, Lance topped off his gesture with a cheeky wink, leaving Keith wanting nothing more than to sink into the face of the Earth with his embarrassment.

Trying his best to fake nonchalant ignorance, and clearly failing judged by how Lance was currently smiling at him, Keith awkwardly shifted from foot to foot as he tried to come up with a smart remark or conversation starter.

“So… Where are we going?” 

“I figured we could go check out the new café downtown, if you’re still up for pancakes?” Lance said, brushing a strand of brown hair away from his face.

“Doesn’t Marmora have pancakes too? We could just go there,” Keith suggested, and Lance immediately looked down, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“I’d rather not run into Hunk right now… He’d probably break his neck trying to sneak a peek at us while serving, or use his break to come over to our table and tell you embarrassing stories about me. You know how friends can be…” Keith nodded in understanding, images of Pidge instantly popping up in his mind. The last thing he wanted was for her to pop out of nowhere and try to “help” him with his date. It would undoubtedly end in disaster.

“Besides,” Lance said, effortlessly slipping back into his flirty persona, “walking longer means I get to spend more time with you.” Yes, Keith thought. This date would certainly be the death of him.

Lance led the way, and for the first few minutes, they walked in silence. Keith didn’t know what to say or do, but somehow the atmosphere didn’t feel awkward, and his heart skipped a beat every time their knuckles accidentally brushed against each other. This was… surprisingly nice.

“Hey Keith, can you hold something for me?” Keith nodded in slight confusion. Lance certainly wasn’t carrying anything, so what was it that he wanted him to hold?

The answer came in the form of bare fingers intertwining with gloved ones, giving Keith’s hand a firm squeeze as he grinned.

“Sorry, sorry… That was way too cheesy. I’ve just always wondered how that works in real life.” Then his grip loosened, letting Keith decide whether to accept the gesture or not, an unmistakable pink hue striking his cheeks as Keith squeezed back.

Lance stood for most of the talking, sensing Keith’s nervousness. He animatedly told him tales of his childhood in Cuba, like how he and his older siblings would go surfing at sunrise every summer, and how his mother’s famous garlic knots tasted so delicious the whole neighborhood came around for a bite. Soon, Keith could envision himself on a sandy beach, pale blue waves crashing against the shore, palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It seemed like such a wonderful place to grow up, quite a contrast from Keith’s American upbringing.

“Sometimes I miss them a lot, especially mamá, but at least Veronica lives nearby. We’ve grown close over the past few years, being this far away from the rest of our family.”

“So you speak Spanish then?” Keith asked, trying his best to help drive the conversation forward. Lance chuckled slightly at the obvious question, before leaning in, whispering softly into Keith’s ear.

“Nunca he conocido a alguien tan hermoso como tú.” His voice was soft like butter, yet melodious like a song, leaving butterflies wreaking havoc in Keith’s stomach, tiny shivers traveling up his spine.

“What does that mean?” he asked, suddenly fidgety and self-aware.

“Maybe I’ll let you know some other time,” Lance winked, before pointing ahead—“Look, we’re almost there. Let’s go inside,”—quickly changing the subject.

Unfortunately, the phrase was too long for Keith to catch, and he was left wondering. What was it exactly that Lance had said to him? It hadn’t seemed bad at all, maybe even slightly suggestive. He desperately wanted to know, but at the same time feared the revelation, knowing he would end up even more flustered.

“Good day sir, and welcome to The Arusian, how may I help you?” a sweet silver-haired girl in a ruffled pink apron greeted Lance as he approached the counter, Keith tagging behind. Lance smiled back at her with ease, clearly more comfortable with social situations than Keith was.

“A table for two, please.”

“Very well. Please follow this way.”

The waitress left them alone with the menu and a quick “I shall be back very soon, please enjoy yourselves,” her crystal blue eyes sparkling joyfully as she skipped along. There was something awfully familiar about her, but Keith couldn't quite put his finger on it. 

“Anything specific you want?” Lance asked, lowering his menu, “it’s on me,” he added, his tone now more genuine than flirtatious.

“Umm… You don’t have to do that. Pay and all.” Keith mumbled, looking away.

“I know. I’m doing it because I want to,” he smiled, tugging slightly at his lower lip. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah… Thanks. I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” Keith said, fidgeting with the hair tie on his arm. Lance seemed very pleased with his answer, grin white and dazzling as the waitress once again approached.

“Great choice! You won’t regret it.”

 

* * *

 

 

As he somewhat suspected, Lance ordered an outrageous amount of food for only two people, not stopping with just the pancakes, but adding both fruit, whipped cream, ice cream and syrup to their order. By recommendation from the waitress, he also ordered a massive salted caramel milkshake topped with cream, popcorn and tiny pieces of fudge that left Keith almost drooling as it approached their table. He wasn’t usually into sweets, but that shake looked beyond delicious, and who could say no to proper American pancakes?

Though he had joked about sharing a milkshake and how incredibly cheesy it would be, Lance had the common decency to get them one each, once again reading Keith’s reluctance without taking offense to it. They chatted idly while eating, and Lance tentatively tried asking Keith about his daily life, eyes gleaming whenever Keith told him more about himself. His childlike joy and curiosity made Keith want to share more as well, desperate to keep that smile glued to Lance’s face.

He ended up sharing a lot more than he usually did, telling Lance about Shiro and Adam, and how he stayed with them in apartment outside of Campus. Pidge also came up in conversation, and Lance broke out in laughter when Keith told him about their childhood prank wars with Matt and Shiro.

For every little piece of information he shared, he got to learn more about Lance, like how his middle name was Serrano, and that he and Hunk shared a dorm on the Southside of Campus that Hunk claimed to be haunted as his stuff kept disappearing and their shower would start dripping at the weirdest of times. Lance swore he wasn’t behind the events, but the scheming glint in his eye told Keith otherwise. Seemed him and Pidge would get along well.

When Keith got Lance started about dancing there was no stopping him. He went on and on about his favorite dancers and how he would like to qualify for the national Championship with his crew one day. They seemed to be practicing a lot, and also met up and danced outside on the Street Plaza whenever they had time off. Keith smiled as Lance enthusiastically talked about new tricks he had learned from adapting parkour into his dancing, finding joy in someone being as passionate about their art as he was.

“You should totally come watch us once! I’ll show you all my best moves!” Lance smirked, and with that, Keith was all over the place again, missing his straw and instead dipping his mouth straight into the whipped cream on top of his milkshake. Lance laughed a little at that, before abruptly stopping, a faint dust of pink raising high on his cheekbones. Then a tan hand hesitantly moved closer, wiping the cream off Keith’s cheek gently, amethyst eyes meeting cobalt.

“You’ve got something… right there,” Lance mumbled, leaving his hand longer than necessary, almost caressing him.

“Thanks.”

They both looked away for a quick second, Lance pulling at his beanie and Keith playing with his hair tie, before slowly slipping back into chatter. It was a bit awkward in the beginning, but they soon picked up where they left off, sharing snippets of their everyday lives with each other, Lance once again driving the conversation. However, the warmth from Lance’s hand on Keith’s cheek lingered, leaving him in a comfortable daze. He couldn’t remember ever being this affected by anyone’s touch before.

***Beep beep***

**Message from Shiro (4:41 PM): Dinner is at 6, we’re having Thai. Hope your date went well, can’t wait to hear all about it ;)**

Keith checked the time-stamp on the message again. Had they really been here for over four hours? That couldn’t be. It felt like they had only just arrived. He looked back at Lance with a guilty expression. He had kept him here for so long, but he did seem like he was having a good time. Lance’s voice broke him out of his trance before he could stop to think more about it.

“What’s up?”

“Just my brother wondering if I’ll be home for dinner.” Lance gasped a little at that, reaching over to check his phone.

“It’s that late already? Time sure flies when you’re having a good time.” Keith nodded, smiling slightly. He had really enjoyed himself, not worrying about what others would think of him for once. With Lance, it was incredibly easy to just go with the flow, and he always seemed to know how to make Keith feel comfortable. How was it possible to grow fond of someone this fast?

“I’ll walk you back to Campus, I’m headed that way anyways,” Lance decided, standing up to brush pancake crumbs off his jeans, making Keith erupt a tiny laugh.

“I’d like that.”

 

* * *

 

“So… This is my bike.” Keith smiled, gesturing to the red motorcycle next to him, trying not to freak out over Lance’s clear enthusiasm. _He’s hot, he’s nice, and he likes motorbikes? Kill me now, please._

“OMG! Is this really yours? That’s so cool!” Lance beamed, admiring the bike, gently stroking along its side. “I’ve always wanted one of these!”

“I could take your for a ride sometime, if you want to.” Keith spoke before he could think, looking down at his boots the second he understood what he had implied. They hadn’t really spoken of a second date yet; what if Lance only wanted to be friends?

“Really? I’d love that!” As usual, it seemed Keith had started worrying for no reason, at least if he was to believe the stupidly excited grin on Lance’s face.

“Really," he confirmed.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now. It was really nice meeting you, Keith. I’ll text you once I know when my schedule’s free... If you wanna meet again...?” Keith could tell that Lance was nervous, tugging at his lower lip and fidgeting in place. For once, it wasn’t just Keith that seemed visibly affected by the situation, which gave him the confidence to smile and take Lance’s hand in his.

“Yeah, do that.”

“Great. Super. I will.”  Flustered Lance was adorable.

Then he felt Lance grab him tighter, and soon his chin was tilted slightly upwards, making their eyes meet. Keith leaned in for what he assumed was a hug, realizing his mistake only when their lips where inches away from meeting.

Lips butted and teeth clashed against each other awkwardly, and within milliseconds, Keith had his heart in his throat from the unexpected sensation. _Wow_ , were they actually kissing? Lance’s lips were so soft. He stood there stunned for a second, not knowing how to respond. Luckily, Lance didn’t seem to mind, expertly tilting his head to make their lips slot together more pleasantly, long fingers coming up to card through Keith’s hair.

Keith let himself relax again, followed Lance’s lead as he pressed their lips together, his free hand instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull Lance closer. When Lance pulled away a few seconds later, Keith was both breathless and completely love-struck, unable to restrain himself as he blurted out a “Wow,” before blushing at his own discomfiture.

“Yeah, wow.” Lance agreed, nervously pulling at his beanie. “We should do that again sometime. Not the kissing but the date,” he backtracked, but then added, “or both. Both is good.”

“Yeah,” Keith mumbled, talking to Lance’s converse rather than his face.

“Well… I’ll see you around. Bye Keith,” he waved awkwardly before turning to leave.

“Bye!”

Keith felt his heart threatening to burst through his rib cage. It seemed he had to wait a few more minutes before he could trust himself to drive straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my latest chapter! If so, please leave a kudos and/or bookmark. I also always appreciate your comments, so please let me now down below if you think I'm doing a good job, or if you have any suggestions for what I might add to this fic in future chapters. If you want to know when the fic is updated, please subscribe as I have no set updating schedule. 
> 
> I'm also going to once again shamelessly plug my Klance/Detroit Become Human fic "Love is a binary code", that you can find on my profile page. I would love it if you checked it out! (you don't necessarily need to be familiar with DBH, as I introduce all characters and concepts as we go along)
> 
> Until next time!


	6. Watch me Whip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything left of the dance after Lance’s solo was a blur to Keith, his treacherous heart acting up and his entire body feeling out of touch with the world, as though he was floating in a pool of bubbles; cushioning yet deceptively fragile. When the music ended, he stood there dumbfounded as everyone clapped; snapping out of it only when bright sapphire eyes peeked over at him, crinkled in the corners from smiling so widely. Keith had to smile too. He couldn’t stop his mouth from dragging upwards, suddenly grinning even though he hated when his teeth was showing.
> 
> “Did you like it?” Lance mouthed at him before grinning again. Keith hoped his smile sufficed as an answer, because his mouth was dry and his tongue felt glued to his mouth. He tentatively moved into the circle, trying his best to ignore the eager chants from the crowd as he approached Lance, feeling wobbly and out of his element. But the smile on Lance’s face when he reached his side, blue eyes gazing at him like he had hung the stars in the sky, that smile made it all worth it.
> 
> *
> 
> Where Keith goes to see Lance dancing and his gay heart can't handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's like 2 AM here and I'm probably gonna regret posting this without going over the grammar one more time but I've missed you guys so much! It feels like it's been forever since I uploaded this. Work has been a bitch, and the stress levels really spike my anxiety as well... So it hasn't been the best of times for the last few weeks. I probably won't be able to upload more frequently than this, unfortunately, but it's better than nothing. (I'm also in a period where I feel really insecure about my writing again, so I hope this isn't as bad as my mind makes me think it is cx)
> 
> This chapter is so cheesy, I think I might die, and the title is the epitome of Lance's dorkiness. Hope you'll like it!

 

That night Shiro hadn’t left him alone for even one second, eyes sparkling and smile warm yet teasing, questioning him about his date with Adam lurking curiously in the background. Keith had tried his best not to grow red and flustered as he said it was none of Shiro’s business, but the memories were too recent, the subtle warmth from that kiss still lingering on his lips, tan, slim fingers ghosting over his neck.

The thought of Lance’s hands on him made his spine tingle, but he didn’t want Shiro to know about it. He always made such a big deal out of things. He would probably buy Keith a cake and throw him a “First Kiss” party if he got the chance. No, this was between him and Lance. At least for now. Keith needed to sort out his thoughts and get comfortable with the idea of others knowing, of actually going public and dating someone. And he still didn’t quite know if that was what Lance wanted, did he?

Shiro laughed at his obvious embarrassment and self-consciousness, but was nice enough to drop the subject, exchanging knowing looks with Adam as Keith excused himself from dinner early. Apparently, the way he had been eyeing his phone for the past ten minutes had been anything but subtle.

Keith’s phone was in his hand the second he unlocked the bedroom door, fingerprint opening his screen and his heart thrumming loudly in his ears as he checked for notifications. And just like he’d hoped, just like he’d been longing for since he had collected himself enough to be able to ride home, Lance’s name popped up on screen next to the red and white flame icon, making his stomach do somersaults.

 

**Message from Lance**

**Lance: Hey <3**

**Lance: I just wanted to say, you know… It was really nice meeting you today**

**Lance: You’re really nice**

**Lance: And cute**

**Lance: And I really liked kissing you**

**Lance: I’m rambling again**

**Lance: I hope you had a good time**

Keith felt his legs give out under him, and barely managed to brace himself as his back slid down the door and he thumped to the floor. Shiro called out to make sure he was okay, but Keith didn’t answer. All his capacity went into reading those texts over and over again.

 

**_I really liked kissing you_ **

 

Suddenly he was taken back to that moment, lips clumsily clashing against each other, fresh spring breeze ghosting over his cheeks and giving them an excuse to be red that wasn’t quite as embarrassing as how nice the outline of Lance’s hip felt against his hands. He let out a quiet whimper thinking about the low, sensual smacking noise their lips had made when they moved against each other, wondering how he had managed to keep his throat from making that sound in the heat of the moment. Probably just sheer luck stemming from how caught off guard he had been. God, what if he had actually moaned but just didn’t remember? That would be so humiliating.

Keith touched his cheek, still stunned, remembering how Lance’s hand had cupped his face just before he leaned in, how warm his fingers had felt against his skin. His pulse still hadn’t quite calmed down, even though it had been over an hour ago. In fact, it was climbing again now as he relished in the moment, committing every detail to memory.

 

**Keith: I had a great time**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: Great**

**Keith: Great**

**Lance: My heart’s beating really fast right now**

**Keith: Mine too**

**Lance: Awwww**

**Keith: …**

**Lance: I’ll take that as a compliment <3**

Keith couldn’t help but chuckle as he imagined Lance’s scrunched up face, annoyed but still playfully amused at Keith’s lack of a reply. It was nice being able to visualize him clearly, knowing from memory how his expressions would change if he was excited, pouty or deep in thought. It made their connection seem more meaningful, made him less anxious about what to do or say, as if he knew somehow that Lance wouldn’t mistake his social awkwardness for being rude, or expect him to be more of a flirty romantic than he was.

Lance liked him for him. Keith still felt like that was a bit too good to be true, but all the signs he had been getting pointed that way. After all, Lance had been the one to initiate the flirting, and he didn’t seem at all put off by meeting Keith. Quite the opposite actually, considering he had kissed him. He still had to pinch himself to make sure that part wasn’t just a dream. Or he could just look down at his phone to see the new string of messages where Lance was basically pouring his heart out to him. That worked too.

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: So…**

**Lance: Do you maybe wanna come over some time? Watch a movie or something?**

**Keith: That’d be nice.**

**Lance: Yeah?**

**Keith: Yeah**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: I’m free Sunday night, is that too soon?**

_Too soon?_ If Keith could have it his way, he would come over right this second. Not that he was gonna say that to Lance though. He didn’t want to scare him off. He went over his schedule in his head. No, Sunday was fine. He’d have tomorrow and maybe that morning to start working on his music project, and he would have to take a break at some point anyway. Smiling, he typed his reply out as quickly as he could, accepting that his fragile heart probably wouldn’t get back into a normal rhythm that day.

 

**Keith: No, Sunday is great**

**Lance: Sunday it is then <3 7 PM? **

**Keith: That works**

**Lance: Great**

**Keith: Great**

**Lance: <3 **

Keith looked down at his most recent notification, the little red heart beaming up at him, radiating a warm feeling of comfort and anticipation through his chest. If Lance kept acting like that, Keith wasn’t sure he would be able to cope. This boy would be the death of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Preparing a song for a talent exhibition he wasn’t really sure he wanted to attend was a more daunting task than Keith had imagined. Every time he tried writing down a few notes, everything just seemed to stop, his brain immediately short-circuiting at the thought of his performance possibly being seen by that many people. Miss Adinbury was wrong, Shiro was wrong. There was no way he could do this. Everyone would be laughing at him. He just knew it.

Realizing he wouldn’t be getting anywhere today, Keith put his guitar to the side and rolled up in bed to watch Netflix. Not the most productive idea, but working on music without inspiration was like trying to jumpstart a car without a battery: a complete waste of time. It took about fifteen minutes before he could hear a tentative knock on his door. Shiro let out a soft “hmm” before he spoke, and Keith felt himself tensing a little.

“Weren’t you supposed to practice?” What was he? A child? So much for getting any kind of privacy in this house.

“Weren’t you supposed to _not listen_?” Keith replied sourly, glaring at the door. He could almost hear the gears in Shiro’s brain turning as he contemplated how to get out of this.

“I’m sorry, I just… You’re really talented, Keith. And I know music makes you happy. I wanna be a part of that.” Great. Now Shiro had made him feel guilty even though _he_ was the one snooping around and sticking his nose in Keith’s business.

“You know how I feel about that… It’s not about you, it’s me.” Keith mumbled. He could hear Shiro sigh from the other side of the door.

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy.” Keith could hear the door creaking and figured Shiro was probably leaning up against it. He sighed and threw off his duvet, getting up unlock his door.

“It’s okay,” Keith said as Shiro stepped inside, “I know you mean well. And you’re right, I should be practicing. I just choke up at the thought of someone listening to me and not liking what they hear; it makes all my creative energy dissipate.” Shiro sat down on his bed and patted the spot next to him. Keith followed without thinking, staring at his spaceship socks as Shiro answered him, confused as to how he was feeling about this situation.

“But you want people to listen to you, yeah?”

“I guess,” Keith shrugged, “I wanna make an impact, like the ones good musicians have made on me. I wanna make people smile, and laugh and cry with me. Feel all the things that I feel when I play. But at the same time it’s terrifying. Like putting a piece of your soul out there for people to judge. I don’t wanna be a failure.” He could feel the cold from Shiro’s prosthetic arm settling on his shoulder.

“You’re not a failure Keith,” Shiro started, before adding teasingly, “I know, I know. I’m your brother, I’m heavily biased. But still, it’s true.” Keith couldn’t help the tiny laugh bubbling in his throat as he pushed his brother’s hand away playfully. Shiro was such an idiot sometimes, but he always knew how to make him feel better. In fact…

Standing up, Keith went over to his guitar rack, leaving a perplexed Shiro to stare at him as he picked out one of his newest models, a blue full body electric guitar, and plugged it into the socket. He ran his hands over the strings, taking a deep breath, listening for any unpleasant sounds. No, it seemed ok. This would do. Shaking a little, Keith gripped the guitar properly, placing it in his lap before looking up to meet wary yet hopeful dark eyes. Shiro moved to leave, but Keith motioned for him to keep sitting, playing a few simple chords to get his message across.

“You sure?” Shiro asked, almost like a whisper, and Keith nodded, closing his eyes.

“Just be quiet,” he murmured, and Shiro obeyed.

He focused on the vibrations created when he touched the strings, not necessarily playing a specific melody, just feeling in touch with the instrument, doing a few bends and allowing himself to slowly slip in to his musical mind-space. _No one’s here_ , he told himself repeatedly as he pulled the toggle switch, finally letting his fingers take control and simply move where they pleased. _I’m all alone, playing just for myself._

A high-pitched electric hum filled the room, moving into a soft rhythm as Keith’s fingers slid along the strings. The beat was melancholic but still loud and boisterous, taking command of the room and demanding to be heard. Then Keith started adding to the rhythms with his voice and his feet, tapping and humming as he built up to a crescendo, vibrations filling his body and sending chills from his head to beneath his soles.

After a particularly intense riff, he slowed back down, tenderly caressing the strings, allowing only soft, somber tunes to escape. Humming low and raspy, he went darker, deeper, banging his head slightly as he played. It felt good to lose himself like this, even though it wasn’t very useful in terms of song-writing.

Keith slowed down into a halt, smiling to himself before he opened his eyes to meet Shiro’s astonished face. Right, he was still here. Keith had let him listen in. He had almost forgotten about that. His pulse picked up as he studied his brother’s face for a reaction, terrified when all Shiro could do was open and close his mouth like a fish out of water. Had he really been that bad?

The hug came like a thunderstorm: fast, heavy and unexpected. It knocked Keith to the ground, his guitar pressed between his stomach and his brother’s broad chest as strong arms threatened to burst his lungs with their powerful grip. After the initial shock, Keith hugged back sheepishly, still not sure what was really happening. Then something damp hit his shirt, and he realized Shiro was crying. Patting his back awkwardly, Keith tried to make them sit upright again before the pressure from his guitar left marks on his hips and stomach.

Once he got them back up, Keith managed to clumsily remove the guitar while still half-hugging his brother. He cleared his throat softly to try to get Shiro’s attention. After a few more seconds, they finally detangled, and Shiro’s grey eyes, red around the edges from crying, met Keith’s disconcerted amethyst orbs.

“Umm, are you ok?” Keith asked, and Shiro nodded, still sobbing a little.

“I’m sorry, I just… I’m just so proud of you Keith.” Keith dodged the next hug, smiling fondly up at his brother.

“Yeah yeah, don’t overdo it,” he said, rolling his eyes, but inside he was beaming with pride. Shiro didn’t just cry for no reason, Keith knew him well enough to know that. Whatever he had made his brother feel just now _that_ was what had made him pursue music in the first place. He knew what he had to do.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, with trembling hands and ragged breathing, Keith finally hit send on the email he had spent hours upon hours trying to write, confirming his attendance to the talent exhibition. He had Pidge with him on speakerphone, who had assured him at least 20 times that his grammar was ok and that he didn’t write anything stupid. Hitting the send button sent a massive wave of relief flooding over him, and Keith felt pride blooming in his stomach as Pidge cheered him on from the other end of the line. He could do this, right? Well, there was no turning back now.

Keith closed the computer and plopped into bed, gazing up at the ceiling with restless eyes. How was he supposed to sleep after this? He felt a giddy sense of excitement, combined with crumbling anxiety and anticipation for what was to come. Putting his name on the list was one thing; going through with it was another thing entirely. Besides, this didn’t take away from the fact that he hadn’t been able to write for weeks, and the rule was for every participant to bring a new piece. Just as he was about to go off on a negative tangent, his phone buzzed, showing the familiar red icon that never failed to make his heart stutter. _Lance._

 

**Lance: Is there an airport nearby or is that my heart taking off? <3**

**Keith: There’s one in the next town over**

**Lance: Stop ruining my flirting mullet**

**Keith: I think you managed that quite well yourself with that comment about my hair**

**Lance: touché**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: What’s up buttercup?**

**Keith: Please don’t call me that**

**Keith: And not much really, trying to sleep**

**Keith: You?**

**Lance: Stargazing. The sky is real pretty tonight**

**Lance: You should take a look.**

Curious, Keith drew his blinds aside, peering out his window overlooking the street. The entire neighborhood was covered in a purple-ish hue, the sky clear and full of shimmering balls of light, mapping out constellations above him. The moon hung high over the horizon, almost three-quarters full, the craters on the surface extra visible in the view of the night.

 

**Keith: It’s beautiful**

**Lance: I know right**

**Keith: Do you watch the stars a lot?**

Keith hesitated, the question seemed more personal than he’d intended. Still, he wanted to know more about Lance, and judging from his upbeat, attentive personality, he wouldn’t mind sharing.

 

**Lance: Yeah, I used to do it a lot back in Cuba with my sisters. We’d make our own constellations, give them names like movie characters and animals and stuff.**

**Lance: How about you?**

**Keith: Not really**

**Lance: Then you’ve been missing out**

**Keith: Maybe you could show me once?**

Keith felt his heart racing as he awaited the reply. Since when did he become so bold?

 

**Lance: I’d love to <3 **

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance: I should probably go now; we both need our beauty sleep**

**Lance: Goodnight Keith <3 **

**Keith: Night Lance**

**Keith: <3 **

**Lance: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 **

Feeling light as a feather, Keith wrapped himself in the duvet and drifted off to sleep without a worry in the world, starlight shining down at his pale frame through the window.

* * *

 

Groaning in agony, Keith shuffled around in bed, burying his face in his pillow and pulling his duvet over his head. Falling asleep beneath the stars to the thought of his crush had seemed so romantic, but now he was questioning if it was worth the piercing rays of sunlight burning through his skull from the open window. What time was it even? _Definitely not time to wake up,_ his inner self grunted, and Keith agreed. It was Sunday for crying out loud. Couldn’t the world allow him to sleep in just this once?

Inching closer to the bedside table, Keith fumbled around with his hand until he could find his phone, his eyes scrunching closed in protest when the screen lit up. 9:30, that wasn’t so bad, though he wouldn’t mind another hour or two. Inspecting his phone more closely, he realized he had three unread messages. Odd, he didn’t really peg Lance for a morning person.

 

**Message from Lance, 9:09 AM**

**Lance: This is kinda random and I totally understand if you don’t wanna**

**Lance: But my friends and I are doing freestyle dancing at Altea Square in like, an hour, and it would be really cool if you’d come watch**

**Lance: Anyway, I’m really looking forward to tonight <3 I’ve missed you **

Reading through the messages, Keith’s mood shifted from happy to terrified to nervously excited. Lance wanted him to meet his friends? Keith wasn’t sure if he was ready. Still, the thought of passing up on a chance to see Lance dancing got him out of bed and into the shower by the time he had hurriedly typed out a reply. _Shit. I’m actualy doing this. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

 

**Keith: I’ll come**

 

The answer was so immediate that Keith didn’t even have time to put down his phone.

 

**Lance: Yaay! Can’t wait! <3 **

**Keith:** **:)**

This warm, fond sensation spreading in his chest whenever he got Lance to smile… He could definitely get used to that feeling.

 _God, I have no time. What am I even supposed to wear?_ Keith thought as he put his phone by the sink and stepped into the warm water. Quickly rinsing his body with soap, Keith decided against washing his hair, He didn’t really have time. Besides, wet hair and his motorcycle helmet wasn’t exactly a dashing combination; Keith had enough of a mullet already.

He nearly tripped as he rushed to put on his ripped jeans, his toe catching on one of the loose threads. Cursing, he pulled his leg back out and tried again, grabbing his Avenged Sevenfold hoodie on the way out the door.

“Breakfast?” Adam called to him from the kitchen, clad in a pink frilly apron and armed with a plastic spatula. Shiro was hugging him from behind, burying his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. Keith shook his head.

“Sorry, no time!”

“Have fun!” They both said in unison, and Keith waved nonchalantly as he grabbed his jacket and helmet and headed for the garage. By the tones of their voices, he knew he would have to face a two-way interrogation once he came back home, but that was something for future Keith to handle. Present Keith had enough problems with controlling the swarm of butterflies trying to devour him from the inside.

Was this even a good idea? What if Lance’s friends didn’t like him? Keith wasn’t one of those cool, laid back dancer types. He was a socially awkward, nervous wreck. And that was putting it mildly.

Coaching himself through some basic opening lines for casual conversation, Keith cruised down the main street towards Altea Square. His nervousness nearly caused him to run a red light, the driver in front of him honking loudly when Keith stopped dangerously close to his bumper.

_Come on, Keith. Relax. It’s no big deal. You’re just meeting Lance and all of his dancer friends in a public space full of people. No sweat._

Who was he kidding? Of course this was a big deal. He needed to make a good first impression. Had to make sure Lance’s friends approved of him and didn’t end up advising Lance to dump him. Wait, dump him? What was he thinking? They weren’t even dating. Yet. God, this was doomed to go all kinds of wrong.

By the time Keith arrived at Altea Square, hair ruffled and heart palpitating so loudly it felt like he was a walking alarm clock, he had gone through at least twenty scenarios in his head where he ended up humiliating himself in front of Lance and his friends. Leaning against his motorcycle, he placed his head between his knees, willing himself to slow his jagged breathing. This was not a good time to panic.

Breathing slowly through his mouth, he locked up his bike and moved towards the crowd gathering in the center of the square. As he came closer, Keith saw a pink circle of chalk drawn neatly on the cobbled ground, separating the crowd from the performance area. And in the middle of the circle, next to a blonde, cheerful girl carrying a megaphone, was Lance.

Keith gulped as he tried his best to digest the sight in front of him. Lance was wearing a typical street dance outfit, a simple blue cap on his head, tight black joggers hugging his legs and accentuating the curve of his ass. His sneakers were a combination of white and light-up neon blue, so extra that only Lance would be able to pull them off; but the best part was his black, cropped hoodie, cutting off right above his navel and giving Keith a view of his impressive abdominal muscles. He could even see the faint trail of hair traveling from his belly button to the hem of pants. The thought of where it ended left him so flustered he didn’t even register the fact that Lance had noticed him before a pair of tan arms wrapped around his waist and plump lips brushed against his earlobe.

“Hey guapo,” Lance said, his voice barely above a whisper, “I almost thought you wouldn’t make it.” Keith could only nod in response, his ears red and his mind fogged. _Wow, his skin is even softer than I remembered. Shit, how does he smell so good?_

Pulling back, Lance looked him up and down before smiling gently, slotting their hands together.

“Too many people?” he said softly, gesturing to the crowd, and Keith nodded nervously. It was impressive how easily Lance picked up on his insecurities and social cues.

“It’s a little overwhelming.” He felt a tiny squeeze to his hand, and gratefully squeezed back, looking into warm sapphire orbs.

“Just focus on me, yeah? Pretend I’m putting on this show just for you.” Keith didn’t think Lance intended to, but his voice sounded so effortlessly sensual that he had to bite his lip to keep himself from running hot.

He noticed Lance’s friend from the café, Hunk, curiously glancing over at them from the other end of the circle, throwing Keith an innocent yet guilty smile when he caught him staring. Keith wondered what exactly Lance had told him about their date. Judging from how enthusiastically he waved at him, probably everything. He was his best friend after all, and Lance had admitted to obsessing over him to Hunk more than once. That was probably a good thing, wasn’t it?

Before Keith had any more time to reflect on the matter, a loud, shrill voice emitted from the megaphone, making him instinctively lift his hands to cover his ears. Lance chuckled at him before backing towards the center of the circle, and Keith swore that laugh made him see stars.

“Hi! Hello everyone! Can you hear me?” the blonde girl called out, and the crowd cheered back at her eagerly. “Good, Good!” She laughed, moving to the front of the circle. “As some of you may know, my name is Romelle, and this,” she gestured to her group of friends, now smiling and waving at the crowd, “is Voltron dance crew!”

The crowd cheered louder, some teenage boys screaming, “We love you Romelle!” in the background. _Wow, I suppose their dance act is pretty popular_ , Keith thought, feeling people pushing closer to him to get a better view. Still, everyone seemed to be mindful of his space, some throwing glances between him and Lance and whispering eagerly to each other. Keith figured he was better off not knowing what they were saying.

“So, are you ready for some dancing?” Romelle called, and the crowd chanted eagerly, “Ok then, take it away Lotor!” She yelled, and a pale, silver-haired man, probably in his mid-twenties, pressed play on a massive boom blaster near the edge of the circle.

A countdown ensued, and all six members took their positions, forming a star pattern around her. Romelle proceeded to toss the megaphone to the side, snapping to the rhythm with her fingers, and the crowd started clapping in synchrony, building momentum before the number started. Lance locked eyes with Keith, threw him a small smirk and mouthed, “watch me”, before the entire crew dropped their gaze to the ground, arms resting by their sides as the numbers closed in on zero.

When the beat hit, everyone spun simultaneously, both hands up, bouncing on the balls of their feet as if they were dunking a basketball.

 

_|Move if you wanna, if you wanna, if you wanna move|_

Lance broke the position first, dropping down to grab the front of his pants and thrust forward before sliding to the left and winking at the audience. The boy next to him replicated the movements before they synchronously threw their hands up one by one, arms bent at the elbow, knees twisting as they turned sideways and leaned back on their heels. Romelle and Hunk repeated the choreography, their movements were less jagged and more like waves flowing in time with the beat.

 

_|Move if you wanna, if you wanna, if you wanna move|_

 The last two members joined in, and now they were all rolling forward, jumping up and landing with feet shoulder-width apart, knees bending before they fell toward the ground and planked, their hands cushioning their bodies only centimeters before they hit the pavement.

 

_|Move if you wanna, if you wanna, if you wanna move|_

 

The music shifted, and Keith vaguely recognized the beat from a mainstream Lady Gaga song, the lyrics speaking of a woman crazy in love with a man she knew was no good for her. Everyone changed positions, rolling their hips to the rhythm in perfect synchrony. Lance froze in place as another dancer broke off into a solo, but Keith still couldn’t keep his eyes off him. His muscles were flexed to the maximum, holding his pose like it was life or death, ready to jump back into the dance at a moment’s notice.   

A sensual tune spread through the square as the music shifted again, and Lance stepped to the center, earning a cheer from the crowd as he moonwalked a few steps before sensually swaying his hips, arms above his head as he moved in a small circle, snapping his fingers to the beat.

 

_|Despacito_

_Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito_

_Deja que te diga cosas al oído_

_Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo|_

 

Keith was mesmerized, watching Lance’s eyes drift closed as he moved, the rhythm thrumming through his veins, every limb fluid yet sharp, his body going through the motions as if he was born on the dancefloor. His hands, feet, hips, arms. Everything bobbing, swinging, moving like his life depended on it. Sweat dripped from his chest down to his abs, making his caramel skin glisten in the sunlight, and Keith felt his toes curling and his chest bloom thinking of how this marvelous boy had chosen _him_ to fall for when he clearly could have had anyone in the universe. _I’m not worthy_.

Everything left of the dance after Lance’s solo was a blur to Keith, his treacherous heart acting up and his entire body feeling out of touch with the world, as though he was floating in a pool of bubbles; cushioning yet deceptively fragile. When the music ended, he stood there dumbfounded as everyone clapped; snapping out of it only when bright sapphire eyes peeked over at him, crinkled in the corners from smiling so widely. Keith had to smile too. He couldn’t stop his mouth from dragging upwards, suddenly grinning even though he hated when his teeth was showing.

“Did you like it?” Lance mouthed at him before grinning again. Keith hoped his smile sufficed as an answer, because his mouth was dry and his tongue felt glued to his mouth. He tentatively moved into the circle, trying his best to ignore the eager chants from the crowd as he approached Lance, feeling wobbly and out of his element. But the smile on Lance’s face when he reached his side, blue eyes gazing at him like he had hung the stars in the sky, that smile made it all worth it.

His friends scattered to drink some water while Lance got himself a towel and started wiping sweat from his forehead and abdomen. Keith tried his best to avert his gaze from Lance’s bare skin, but to no avail. His eyes kept darting back to his exposed collarbones, glistening from sweat through the mesh on the neckline of  his hoodie. What would it feel like to bite into those? No, bad Keith. That was not something to think about while in public, especially not in close vicinity to Lance’s friends.

Gathering his courage, Keith decided he should probably give Lance some praise for his dancing. After all, the choreography had been truly mind-blowing.

“You looked really pretty—I mean you looked very goo— I mean you were really great!” he sputtered out, before covering his face in his hands and letting out a silent whine. _What the fuck was that? What am I? Twelve? God, this is so embarrassing._

“Thanks,” Lance managed to squeeze out between giggles, covering his mouth with his hand. _His laugh is so soft._

A warm, tingling sensation filled Keith to the brink, like the soft tune from a wind-chime in light breeze. He was completely lost, drowning in the Caribbean Sea. Man overboard! Please don’t call the lifeguard. Please don’t throw a line. There is no need for any flotation devices. Let him sink. Let him be engulfed by the waves.

“But really,” Lance said after collecting himself, “Thanks for coming. I really appreciated it!”

“No problem!” Keith mumbled, standing there awkwardly, hands shoved deep in his pockets because he really didn’t trust his self-control. Lance was so close and his skin was so creamy, and somehow him being sweaty didn’t stop him from smelling like citrus and caramel. Keith was so close to giving in and reaching out to brush his fingers against the curve of his hipbone. He wanted to bury his face in his shoulder and breathe him in. That was weird, wasn’t it? God, his lips looked so inviting. Would it be okay if Keith tried to kiss him? Maybe not here in front of all of these people, but he definitely needed to do it again. _Soon._ He hoped Lance would let him.

“Hey buddy! Did you enjoy the show?” Hunk said cheerfully, smiling at him while wrapping an arm around Lance’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you guys were great!” Keith managed to force out, somehow not stumbling over the words. Hunk grinned at him before adjusting his bandana. It seemed to keep falling into his eyes, probably because of how sweaty his forehead was. Dancing like this seemed to be quite a workout.

The other crewmembers soon gathered around them, and Lance introduced Keith to each of them in turn, presenting him as his “new friend”, making them both squirm a little. He started with Hunk and Romelle, who were both very enthusiastic to meet him properly, and then gestured for Keith to shake hands with Lotor. The way he greeted him felt excessively formal, and something about the shine of his silvery hair led Keith to questioning whether he had actively colored it or if he was just a very literal example of “an old soul”.

James’s smile seemed cocky and overly confident, as if he was trying too hard to make an impression. His brown hair was swept back, and despite dancing just as passionately as the others had, he looked like he hadn’t even begun to break a sweat. Keith scoffed at him internally, thinking he was a bit of a poser.

If he had thought Hunk and Romelle were enthusiastic people, Nadia was most definitely the cherry on top of the eccentric cake. She shook his hand with surprising eagerness, nodding her head so vigorously that her glasses fell off her nose. Her dark ponytail was a mess from the all the jumping and rolling, and Keith wasn’t sure if she was breathless because of the dancing or because she insisted on talking both when inhaling and exhaling, making her voice wheezy.

They stood there talking for a few minutes, mostly mindless chatter about trivial topics. Keith learned that their group usually had seven members, but their friend Ryan had apparently sprained his ankle and would be unable to dance for a few weeks. A few people from the crowd came over to chat with them as well, complimenting their routine or asking for selfies. Romelle seemed to be especially popular, a flock of young girls nervously asking her to teach them some moves. Keith smiled at their shyness. He could definitely relate.

“Hey Keith,” James smiled as he and Lotor lifted the boom blaster, “we’re having milkshakes at The Arusian, you wanna come? It’s kind of a Sunday tradition.” Keith smiled at him, but shook his head. It was nice meeting Lance’s friends, but was already a bit overwhelming. He definitely needed some time on his own right now.

“I’m sorry, I need to get back home and do some schoolwork.” It wasn’t a complete lie, though Keith knew he wouldn’t be able to get any writing done before tonight.

“That’s too bad,” James said, and some of the others nodded in agreement, “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” Keith said, smiling back.

“You coming Lance?” Hunk said once they’d all gathered their stuff. The others had already started walking, Romelle looking back at him expectantly. Lance scratched the back of his head, eyes flickering from Keith to his friends.

“You guys go ahead; I’ll join you in a minute.”

They stood there awkwardly as Lance’s friends left, watching until their silhouettes disappeared around the corner. Then Lance pulled him into a hug and Keith melted in his arms, shyly burying his nose between his neck and collarbone.

“We’re still on for tonight right?” Lance asked, rubbing the small of Keith’s back, and he nodded, “Good, I was afraid they might’ve scared you off. My friends can be a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’re friends are nice, I just… I’m not too good with people.” Keith mumbled, averting his eyes.

“You’re great, Keith. Don’t worry about it,” Lance smiled, moving to push Keith’s bangs out of his face, his fingers lingering a few more seconds than necessary.

“I should get going before Lotor messes up my order. He’s crushing way too hard on the waitress, gets him all worked up and flustered. I can relate,” he added, fumbling with his cap, blue eyes piercing into Keith’s soul. _How is he so perfect? I don’t know how to handle this,_ Keith sighed internally, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, see you tonight,” he stammered out.

“Tonight,” Lance mirrored him.

“Great.”

“Great.”

Then Lance pecked him lightly on the cheek and turned on his heel, disappearing around the corner before Keith could process what had happened. He sighed tenderly, touching his face where Lance’s mouth had been.

Keith spent the next few hours in his room unproductively daydreaming about kisses on the cheek and citrusy perfume. He didn’t regret one second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed, and consider subscribing to know when I update <3 I'm so close to 100, it would really make my day. 
> 
> Also, thank you so much for 200 kudos, I really appreciate it!
> 
> I also have a tumblr if that tickles your fancy: @sasusoul
> 
> Until next time!


	7. Catch me, I'm falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever had empanadas before?” Keith shook his head, eyeing the tiny ball of dough. “Do you know what they look like?” He cocked his head to the side, looking up at Lance.
> 
> “Kind of?” he said, but felt very uncertain. Suddenly, Lance was behind him, muscular arms taking hold of Keith’s wrists and guiding his motions.
> 
> “Ok,” he said, leaning in closer. Keith could feel the warmth of his breath tickle against his ear, “Let me show you.” Keith swallowed dryly before nodding, completely taken aback by how intimate their position was.
> 
> “First you wanna make a flat circle,” Lance started, moving Keith’s arms with his own as he pressed the dough out. Keith lost the rest of his explanation, busy with the sensation of their arms brushing against each other; the scent of citrusy perfume and fresh herbs radiating off Lance making him dizzy. He felt himself falling back against Lance’s chest, leaning into the touch, and soon a pair of soft lips were gently tracing along his neckline, causing goosebumps to appear all over Keith’s skin.  
> 
> Unfortunately, the touch disappeared soon after it had started, and when Keith looked up, Lance was smirking at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! Happy December everyone! Hope you'll enjoy this update. I don't know what to write in these notes anymore, I feel like I always just apologize for how little I'm posting. This chapter is cozy, might get you in good mood if you've had a rough day, or period. That's what this fic does to me anyway. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for my terrible song-writing skills. Keith deserves better.
> 
> Enjoy!

Keith checked his watch as he parked his bike next to Lance’s dormitory building: 6:50. Was that too early? Maybe he should wait a bit before he went up there, in case Lance had some stuff he needed to fix. No, he decided. Someone could look out their window and see him standing here aimlessly; that would be too awkward.

Lance had said he lived on the second floor, right? Keith double-checked the message just to be sure, even though he knew exactly what it said (even down to the heart emoji at the end). Better that way than to let his anxiety get the better of him. Sighing, he clicked his helmet onto the steering wheel of his motorbike and started sauntering over to the stairs.

The apartment complex wasn’t too huge. Two garden bushes were planted on each side of the building, of the green generic kind that everyone seemed to have in middle-income neighborhoods. The building was a faded cold yellow, four floors tall, with three two-bedroom apartments on each floor. The windowsills looked like they could use a new coat of paint, and the gutter was a bit detached, hanging off the roof on one side of the building, but apart from that, it seemed in decent shape. _Not too shabby_ , Keith thought. He could have survived this, if it wasn’t for the whole “having a roommate” situation.

With his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, he climbed the stairs to the second floor, scanning the corridor for any signs indicating which of the apartments was 203. God, he was nervous. Meeting Lance in public was one thing, but being alone with him… Would he expect them to do something? No, Lance wasn’t like that, Keith assured himself. It was just dinner and a movie. Like hanging out with Pidge. Except Pidge wasn’t a gorgeous latino college student that made Keith’s skin tingle and his stomach flip every time they locked eyes. Ok, definitely not like hanging out with Pidge.

Inhaling sharply, he knocked the door twice with his gloved hand, waiting for someone to answer. Nauseousness was welling up inside him, and Keith could feel his throat closing up a little. He hadn’t really eaten much today, too busy daydreaming and being nervous about his date. The excitement and tension had made him lose his appetite.

 _What if doesn’t go well?_ He thought, pulling at his hair-tie. No, this had to go well. Keith desperately needed it go well. He’d never had anything like this, and he didn’t wanna lose it before he even got a proper taste. Lance probably had girls and boys alike flocking him on a daily basis. Keith needed to prove he was worth giving a shot, even though he didn’t always believe it himself. And with Lance, Keith definitely felt like he was punching too high, even though he seemed to enjoy his company more than a little. It was just a matter of time before he would get tired of him, wasn’t it?

“Hey!” Lance grinned the moment he opened the door, leaning in to give Keith a hug. The contrast between his tan skin and white smile had Keith swooning, and he didn’t manage to react in time, ending up just slumping into Lance’s chest as he wrapped his arms around him. Lance didn’t seem to mind.

“Let’s go inside, it’s cold out,” Lance said, and Keith nodded, crossing the doorstep to Lance and Hunk’s apartment. The hallway was a mess, shoes and jackets strewn across the floor, a lamp being used as a coat stand for Lance’s caps and beanies. Keith smiled a little. Honestly, what had he been expecting?

“It’s a bit all over the place, but you can put your jacket on that hanger if you want,” Lance said, gesturing to the wall on Keith’s right.

“Sure,” Keith nodded, pulling it off. Lance shot a look at his fingerless gloves.

“Do you want to put those away somewhere or?” Keith shook his head.

“I usually wear them all the time. Sometimes I even forget to take them off when I’m sleeping,” he rambled, and Lance let out a chuckle, “is that weird?” he said, nibbling at his lower lip. Lance shrugged his shoulders.

“You tell me. At least your bio was honest,” he added, quirking his brows. Keith glanced down.

“My friend made me write it,” he mumbled, kicking off his shoes.

“That’s what friends are for, ey?” Lance said, leading Keith inside.

The common area consisted of an open kitchen and living room solution, with a small dining table next to the kitchen area. It was small, but functional. A perfect space to share with a friend or significant other. Once in the kitchen, Lance pulled out a bowl and some flour from the cabinet, and Keith caught himself staring at how his jeans was hugging his ass.

“You hungry? I’m starving.” Keith nodded.

“Yeah, I haven’t eaten in a while,” as if his verbal statement wasn’t enough, his stomach growled loudly in response to Lance’s question. He laughed, and Keith felt his soul leaving his body at the sound.

“I can hear that,” then he turned to the hallway and yelled, “HUNK?” receiving a yell in reply, “Do you want empanadas?”

“WHAT?”

“I SAID, DO YOU WANT EMPANADAS?” Lance yelled from the top of his lungs, and Keith had to cover his ears to muffle out the sound.

“HELL YES!” Hunk replied from his room, his voice echoing throughout the apartment.

Lance turned back around, his expression and demeanor softening, voice suddenly softer and more considerate, not just in volume.

“Anything you prefer? I can make them gluten free, no olives, vegan, whatever you want really.” Why was he so cute?

“No meat would be nice,” Keith said, feeling somewhat like a bother. He was expecting they would order pizza or something, not that Lance would cook for him.

“Gotcha!” He said, clicking his tongue and winking at him, “I make a mean one with mushrooms and spinach.” Keith smiled up at him.

“That sounds really nice actually.” Lance nodded absentmindedly, already busy with stacking up the ingredients and oiling the pan.

“Might take a little while though,” he noted, measuring up the flour, “but the dough only needs to rest for about half-an-hour, and the deep frying goes pretty fast.” Keith nodded, feeling a bit out of place. He should probably offer to help out, but cooking skills didn’t exactly run in the family. Sure, he could fry an omelet without it sticking to the pan, or remember to put the pasta in water when cooking it (Shiro almost set the house on fire that time), but Adam was usually the one in charge of the food in their household. He practically lived there anyway.

“I’ll surive.”

“Good!” Lance smiled, mixing the dough, “You won’t regret it! Right, Hunk?”

“Totally!” a voice chimed in beside him, making Keith yelp and Lance burst into laughter. How had he not noticed him entering? Was he really that caught up in his thoughts? “Lance makes the best empanadas, dude! Even I can’t outdo him!” Lance beamed with pride at his friend’s praise, and Hunk smiled widely. He seemed like such a warm, friendly person. Keith didn’t feel intimidated by him in the slightest, which was a rare thing for him. Strangers always made him extra cautious.

Hunk and Lance chatted away while he mixed the dough, and Keith was content with falling back from the conversation a little, just giving the occasional nod of confirmation. He felt oddly at ease leaning against the kitchen counter, and it didn’t even upset him that much when Hunk moved to put an arm around his shoulder, gushing about how happy he was that Lance had finally found someone. In fact, it was rather comfortable, and the flustered look on Lance’s face as he tried to stop Hunk from revealing exactly how much he had been rambling about him made it all worth it.

 It only took a few minutes before Lance had the dough resting in the fridge. He put Keith and Hunk to work chopping onions, spinach and mushrooms, before diving into the fridge to pull out a variety of fresh herbs. Keith wasn’t too good with plants, but he recognized the cilantro stuffed between at least two other sorts of green, which Lance was now furiously mixing in a pot with garlic and obscene amounts of olive oil. He quirked a brow at Hunk, a silent question.

“Chimichurri,” he replied nonchalantly, continuing to chop the onions with teardrops in the crooks of his eyes. This was certainly going to be a food experience completely out of Keith’s comfort zone, but he was looking forward to it.

Lance took pity on Hunk after his tears started running, and gently shoved him out of the kitchen so he could finish dicing the onions. As much as Keith enjoyed Lance’s sunray of a friend, he was grateful to have some alone time with him.

When time came to form the empanadas, Lance dusted the bench with flour and rolled up the sleeves on his sweater, revealing part of an intricate pattern Keith couldn’t study properly. Lance had tattoos? He instructed Keith to do the same, and he obeyed, unbuttoning the arms of his flannel shirt. Then he rolled the dough out, cutting it into even pieces before handing one to Keith. He just stood there dumbfounded, moving it from hand to hand with a confused expression. Lance chuckled.

“Have you ever had empanadas before?” Keith shook his head, eyeing the tiny ball of dough. “Do you know what they look like?” He cocked his head to the side, looking up at Lance.

“Kind of?” he said, but felt very uncertain. Suddenly, Lance was behind him, muscular arms taking hold of Keith’s wrists and guiding his motions.

“Ok,” he said, leaning in closer. Keith could feel the warmth of his breath tickle against his ear, “Let me show you.” Keith swallowed dryly before nodding, completely taken aback by how intimate their position was.

“First you wanna make a flat circle,” Lance started, moving Keith’s arms with his own as he pressed the dough out. Keith lost the rest of his explanation, busy with the sensation of their arms brushing against each other; the scent of citrusy perfume and fresh herbs radiating off Lance making him dizzy. He felt himself falling back against Lance’s chest, leaning into the touch, and soon a pair of soft lips were gently tracing along his neckline, causing goosebumps to appear all over Keith’s skin.  

Unfortunately, the touch disappeared soon after it had started, and when Keith looked up, Lance was smirking at him.

“You think you’re ok with making some of your own now?” He nodded slowly, flushing pink as he observed the now finished empanada on the bench. When did they even add the filling?

After slowly flattening his piece of dough, trying not to make it to0 obvious that he was watching Lance work, Keith finally started filling his second empanada. Now that he had seen it done, it was a bit easier to follow the movements, but even though he tried his utmost to make them as delicate as possible, they all came out a bit lumpy and askew compared to Lance’s.

Lance worked faster too; moving his nimble fingers like making empanadas was second nature to him. Which it probably was, considering he had grown up on Cuba. For a second, Keith could clearly picture Lance surrounded by family members in a worn-down kitchen in Varadero, watching with wide eyes as his mother folded and fried his favorite dish. His lips turned up at the thought. Lance noticed, and smiled back at him, posture relaxed as he worked on his next piece of dough.

“You’re pretty good at this,” he commented, looking over at Keith’s small batch of empanadas.

“Really?” Keith asked skeptically, surprised when Lance nodded without hesitation.

“Yeah, for your first time this is pretty great. You’re almost on par with Hunk already.”

While chatting, Lance had started pouring oil into a large boiler, now heating it slowly. He picked up at thermometer from the closet, and held it in his mouth as he placed the pan and bowls in the washing machine.

“Make yourself at home while I fry these, yeah? It’ll only take a few minutes.” Keith nodded, heading over to the sink to wash his hands.

Glancing over at the dining table, he realized Hunk had already set it. He was now slumped down on the couch, an animated show buzzing in the background as he scrolled on his phone. When Keith came over, he immediately erupted in a smile, scooting over to make room next to him.

They chatted for a few minutes, mostly about school and their plans for the semester. Hunk mentioned that Lance had said Keith was a musician, but otherwise avoided the topic of their relationship (if that was even what it was), much to Keith’s relief. The conversation flowed easily, and Hunk emitted what Keith could only describe as a calming aura, making the atmosphere light and relaxing. Keith didn’t feel like he was “auditioning” to become his friend; he was instantly accepted as an equal.

“Food’s ready!” Lance shouted from the kitchen, and soon they were all digging into the fresh pile of empanadas. Keith had thought the smell was good enough in itself, but the taste turned out to be even more of a sensational experience. The crunch of the empanada crust combined with the soft, flavorsome inside made his taste buds explode.

They ate in pleasurable silence, only interrupted by Hunk and Keith complimenting the food. Lance was smiling from ear to ear.

Once their plates were empty, Lance threw Hunk a look, and he immediately excused himself, put away the dishes and disappeared to his room. _Odd._

“You wanna watch a movie?” Lance asked, and Keith nodded, following him over to the couch. He sat down, scraping his legs along the floor and pulling out his hair tie as Lance booted up his Playstation. They were finally alone, and Keith felt a mixture of almost giddy excitement and intense nervousness settle over him. When Lance walked back over to him, wrapping a soft blanket around the both of them, Keith’s pulse was pounding so hard in his ears that he couldn’t hear what he was saying, let alone reply with anything but an awkward nod. Somehow, this sufficed, and Lance ended up putting on a movie for them.

If you asked Keith later what they had been watching, he wouldn’t have been able to recall it. He could only remember the faint smell of mandarins from Lance’s hair, and the way he rested his head against Keith’s shoulder as if he belonged there. Their hands eventually found each other, gloved palms brushing against bare fingertips, and their legs lived a life of their own, tangling over each other until there was no part of Keith’s body that Lance wasn’t touching. It was comfortable, warm, felt safe even. It was only natural that it slowly started to escalate, both of them growing hot and restless from their close proximity.

It was painfully obvious that neither were paying attention to the movie, but Keith still felt the need to glance over at the screen from time to time, trying his best to hide the fact that he was staring. However, that was impossible, because Lance was staring too. When their eyes met, both their pupils quickly widened, and they moved to look the other way almost comically fast. Even more comical was the way their gazes would both slowly start turning towards the other again, admiring skin, muscles, freckles and necks until they collided and the cycle repeated itself. 

Somewhere along the way, Lance discarded his sweatshirt, and Keith discovered the myriad of stars and planets travelling along his left arm. The colors were a mixture of blues and purples, a galaxy trailing from his shoulder to his wrist. It blended gorgeously with his caramel skin, and Keith felt himself aching to touch it. To trace the outlines of his ink and feel the muscles flex under his fingertips.

Their eyes met again, but this time, Lance didn’t waver. He smiled up at Keith almost encouragingly, leaving his arm to rest across his chest, fully within reach again. When Keith touched it, he shivered, humming against his side. Mesmerized, Keith kept caressing Lance’s skin, unable to control his desire to feel every inch of his sleeve beneath his hand.

The kisses started as feather-light touches to his exposed collarbone, before Lance gently cupped his jaw to let their lips meet. Keith melted into it immediately, the voices on screen merely white noise compared to the pounding of his heart and the smacking of their lips. Lance shifted above him, and soon Keith’s shoulders were caged between his arms, helplessly stuck as Lance gently swiped his tongue across his upper lip, coaxing Keith into opening his mouth. Not that he was complaining.

Soon, Lance moved from his lips to his jawline, kissing along his face before gently sucking at the skin on his neck. He made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine, feeling himself hardening in his jeans. The reaction only seemed to heighten Lance’s excitement, as he kept sucking lightly at the junction between Keith’s neck and collarbone. He briefly wondered how to hide the mark from Shiro later. He would never hear the end of it.

Lance pressed down against him, and suddenly Keith's already raging erection brushed against his semi hardness. They both sighed, Keith eliciting an embarrassing, breathless moan. He could feel Lance's lips smile against his as they kissed again. Deeper now, more fervently. Keith felt his head starting to spin. They were only kissing, yet here he was, so close to release. It was embarrassing. Then again, Lance seemed to be enjoying it too.

Still, Keith withdrew his ministrations bit by bit as they continued; starting with untangling his fingers from Lance's now tousled hair, followed by shifting his abdomen to make sure their erections couldn't brush together. He tried to keep himself from moaning and gasping into the kiss, smoothing over Lance's lips whenever he tried to reintroduce his tongue.

Keith was terrified. Sure, this felt amazing, and he didn't want it to stop, but he had only just gotten used to the concept of kissing. He wasn't ready to move any further. What if Lance wanted to—?

Whilst Keith was panicking, Lance seemed relaxed and in control, guiding the kiss with a professionalism that made Keith imagine things he didn't want to imagine. How many men and women had Lance been with before this? Would he ever be able to live up to those expectations? Was he really into him, or was Keith just another notch in his bedpost, subdued to his irresistible grace perfected through years of practice? He wanted so badly for Lance to like him, yet moving further with this was not an option. Keith needed more time. But what if that caused Lance to leave him?

"You're uncomfortable." A voice above him broke through Keith’s turmoil, making him open his eyes. Lance was gazing down at him, resting on his elbows, eyes filled with concern. When did they stop kissing? Had Keith been that lost in his own indecisiveness and fear?

"Hey, Keith? Are you OK? Did I do something wrong? Do you wanna stop?"

He seemed so honest, and Keith had problems locating any hint of annoyance or resignation in his voice. His head was still spinning, and he felt the faint sensation of a warm hand softly caressing his forehead.

"Keith?"

"This... I..."

"It's OK, use your words. We can stop if you want to. I'm sorry if I got a little carried away..." Lance laughed nervously, throwing his eyes to the ground. 

"This is fine, I just... Can we keep it like this?" He tried to gesture between them to get his point across, his voice a little bit shaky. 

"Of course," Lance's reply was immediate and comforting, "I wasn't really planning on anything else... This is just"—he glanced briefly down at his erection—"hormones. And I would never do anything you don't want to, I promise. I'm sorry for overwhelming you." Keith could tell both the apology and concern was genuine, which shocked him a little, but somehow also fit with the image of Lance the healthy part of his brain had created. Someone who was nice and considerate. Someone who truly cared for him. 

“It’s ok. I just… This is a bit… overwhelming.” Lance chuckled nervously.

“I know what you mean,” he said, nibbling at his lip, “Everything about you makes me lightheaded, it’s almost intoxicating.” Then he dove back into his neck, pulling more of those soft moans from Keith, before bringing his lips back up, easing his tongue into Keith’s open mouth.

Breathless and in awe, Keith pulled back a few moments later, violet eyes meeting piercing blue once again. Lance brows were still slightly furrowed, worried. Keith decided he didn’t like that look on him.

“You still seem tense. Just tell me if you wanna stop,” Lance said, moving to brush his thumb across Keith’s lower lip. Keith shivered from the sensation. His lack of a reply caused Lance to simply drop down on his chest, curling up against him. A warm hand found Keith’s fingertips and they connected, lying there in silence, listening to their heartbeats synchronizing.

Keith’s pulse calmed down after a while, and he moved his free hand up to carve through Lance’s hair, earning him a satisfied hum.

“You feel so nice,” Lance murmured into his chest, “definitely a first class pillow.” Sighing, Keith gathered up his courage.

“I haven’t really done this before,” he gestured between them, “Any of this.” Lance shifted abruptly under him, eyes wide with astonishment.

“None of it? No dates? No kissing?”

“No…” Keith mumbled, averting his eyes. Lance’s stare felt heavier now, more invasive.

“I guess that explains a little,” Lance smiled. He retracted it immediately when he saw the shame on Keith’s face.

“Hey…” he said, nuzzling into Keith’s shoulder, making his muscles relax a fraction, “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Some start exploring later than others, it’s completely normal.”

“Did you notice?” Keith asked sheepishly, “When we kissed?” Lance shook his head.

“I figured you were just nervous. Hell, I was really nervous,” Lance said, gently squeezing Keith’s hand in his, “But apparently I’m a good teacher,” he continued, laughing nervously, “cause kissing you feels like heaven.”

“Really?”

“Really.” This time, Keith dove in first.

 

* * *

 

Time was not a concept for Keith after that, only Lance’s lips on his. His doubts didn’t melt away, but they dulled down, hiding in the back of his subconscious. Out of sight, out of mind. Lance’s touch was both grounding and sublime, and Keith felt himself yearning for it like a starved pup. _More, more, more,_ his mind chanted, reaching deeper, inching closer. Lance was a feast to be devoured.

***beep beep beep***

Keith instinctively bucked up against Lance when he retracted from the kiss, sulking when he found that his lips were out of reach. Lance was busy scrambling over the table to find his phone, cursing under his breath as he pushed the snooze button.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked; voice breathless and lips swollen from the kissing. Lance tossed his phone to the side.

“It’s getting late,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I have an early dance lesson tomorrow...” Then he slumped down onto Keith, wrapping his arms around his torso. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled, his cold breath tickling Keith’s nipples under his shirt. He smiled down at the brown mop of hair in his arms, planting an affectionate kiss on Lance’s forehead.

“You should go sleep,” he said, though every fiber of his being protested, “I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“You’re probably right.”

Still, none of them made an effort to move, basking in each other’s presence. It wasn’t until Lance’s alarm rang a second time that Keith gently untangled his arms from beneath him, sitting up. Lance protested weakly, but soon moved to swipe right on his phone, stopping the alarm for good. Then he leaned down and gently pecked Keith’s lips, smiling fondly.

“One for the road.”

Keith managed to steal another before he left.

 

* * *

 

When Keith finally parked his bike in the garage, it was already half past one. He opened the front door carefully, tiptoeing into the hallway, but didn’t see any signs of his brother or Adam. Both their jackets were missing, so he assumed they were over at Matt’s. That was definitely a good thing, because Keith was smiling so widely they would know something was up, and his neck had started bruising slightly from Lance’s lips. It seemed he would have to dig into his old make-up bag for some foundation in the morning. He didn’t mind in the slightest.

Despite how late it was, Keith’s mind was far too occupied for him to sleep. Currently, he was sat on the foot of his bed, rereading all his messages from Lance, his stomach bubbling with a childish joy he hadn’t felt in years. Whatever was blooming between them was too good to be true, but Keith wanted to deceive himself just a little while longer. Who knew? Maybe it would last, after all.

The last message was a recent one, sent just after Keith had exited Lance’s dorm and headed for his bike. He had almost dropped his phone on the asphalt when he briefly glanced down at it, his fingers growing numb from the blood rushing to his chest.

 

**Message from: Lance 00:07 AM**

**Lance: *Contact information***

**Lance: I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together ;)**

**Lance: That’s my number, if that wasn’t obvious…**

**Lance: Text me some time <3 **

He never answered, just shoved his phone into his pockets with heated cheeks, revving the engine with trembling fingers. Once he reached the highway, he felt stupid, but assured himself Lance wouldn’t be annoyed. After all, he didn’t even know if Keith had seen the message yet. It was just now he had mustered up the courage to answer, typing out the text under Lance’s newly added contact information.

 

**Recipient: Lance**

**Text me in the morning?**

**Keith**

 

He didn’t expect any answer; Lance was probably sleeping. Still, Keith kept checking his phone every five minutes, alternating between browsing the web and reading their old conversations for the umpteenth time. There was no way he would be able to sleep like this. Absolutely none. All his emotions kept bundling up with no sufficient outlet in sight. Or maybe…?

While mindlessly scanning the room, Keith’s eyes landed on his father’s old guitar, and before he knew it, he was dragging it back into bed with him. Crossing his legs, Keith hummed as he closed his eyes, allowing his fingers to drag across the strings in one fluent motion. He soon started playing a long lost melody, an instrumental he had wanted to turn into a song for months. He could never seem to find the words, but now they were overflowing; his mind like an active volcano, spewing lyric after lyric from his mouth.

Most of them didn’t fit, but Keith didn’t care. That was all part of the creative process. For the first time in forever, the ball was finally rolling.

One sentence repeated itself, then two, and suddenly the chorus stuck. It was as if it had always been there, molded perfectly into the song. The melody stayed the same, but the phrasing differed, turning it more hopeful, rosier. When he sang it, Keith’s heart skipped a beat, the tug on his chest intense but pleasant. _Right._

 

 

_|Falling is dangerous,_

_Yet my knees are buckling_

_Falling is dangerous,_

_Still my legs are stumbling_

_Stumbling and falling for you_

_May this love heal and not bruise_

_Stumbling and falling for you|_

When Shiro and Adam returned, they found the bedroom door open, a peaceful Keith sleeping upright, guitar still clutched in his grasp. They couldn’t stop grinning.

 

* * *

 

**Text from: Lance 07:09 AM**

**Lance: I just woke up and you’re already on my mind <3 **

**Keith: That makes two of us**

**Lance: <3**

**Keith: <3 **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I probably need to outline some more before I can continue, as I'm starting to branch out the scope of this story more than I thought I would. It quickly grew from a tiny idea into a complete universe of its own, and I feel tempted to add more chapters than planned in order to explore that potential. I guess we'll see what I come up with. 
> 
> If you like this story, please do leave me a kudos, or even better, a comment. They're precious to me. Even if you don't know what to say, just leave a heart or a string of incoherent letters, it still means a lot. And of course, subscribe if you want to know when I update, because my schedule is, unfortunately, non-existing. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: @sasusoul, or instagram: @susapuff
> 
> Until next time!


	8. Thinking 'bout me? ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance sent a picture
> 
> Lance is typing…
> 
> Lance: Handstand practice.
> 
> Lance: Sorry, I look really sweaty
> 
> Lance was in a dimly lit hall full of mirrors, probably one of the practice rooms at their school, his left arm holding up the weight of his entire body, feet straight in the air and his right hand throwing finger-guns at the camera. Gravity had taken hold of his tank top, causing his entire midriff to show, his tight abs glistening with sweat from a full day of practice. His marine tights clung to his legs like a second skin, showing off his strong calves, as well as a nice bulge on the front, Keith noted with a blush. He obviously wasn’t hard, and the picture wasn’t even remotely sexual, more of a show off, but Keith couldn’t help the heat pooling in his stomach at the sight. Holy shit, that’s hot!
> 
> *Where Keith panics over his lack of reply from Miss Adinbury about the talent exhibition, and gay-panics over everything Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, I'm alive! Who would have guessed? I'm sorry for the absence, my life has been, interesting, over the past few months... I'm working through a bit of a work-related down, feeling like I'm not good enough, stressful, anxious etc. etc., but I've taken charge of everything and asked for some help, so I'm hoping things will turn around soon. 
> 
> This chapter is very short for the wait, but at least it's a little spicy at the end, which I hope might make up for it. Anyways, I hope you guys are still around and that you'll enjoy reading this. Hopefully it won't take me 2+ months to update next time.

When Tuesday came around, Keith was completely mortified at the thought of attending Miss Adinbury’s class. Neither her nor anyone connected to the exhibition had contacted him since he sent his email, and naturally, Keith’s thoughts had begun spiraling. What if it had all been some misunderstanding? They couldn’t possibly want him to perform. Soon, someone would send him a rejection; explain that he regretfully had been misinformed. Someone more suited, more talented, had been offered his place. He wouldn’t blame them.

Pidge tried reminding him that only one working day had passed, and that it was normal for emails to pile up when arranging such an event, but retracted her encouragements when Keith glared at her over his morning coffee. He knew he wasn’t being fair to her, and he planned on apologizing later. He was just… So overwhelmed, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up in case his suspicions were right. His headspace hadn’t been great for the past day and a half.

Not even Lance’s daily pick-up line, still sent over Tnder for some odd reason, had managed to cheer Keith up. It had only reminded him that there was so much he had yet to tell Lance. Stuff that could scare him away. Who would want a guy who panicked even at the prospect of standing on a stage, and whose only friend was a sassy seventeen-year-old who had skipped ahead a few years because of her computer skills and IQ? Surely, Lance wouldn’t want to end up having to dedicate his Friday nights to soothing Keith through an unexpected panic attack when he could be out having fun with his friends. No, being with Keith was simply too much of a hassle for anyone to handle, even Lance.

Still, Keith _wanted_ Lance. Wanted him as if he had never yearned for anything before. The mere thought of seeing him again, running his hands through tousled brown hair as sparkling blues shone up at him through fluttering lashes, made his insides ignite like firecrackers, exploding with such loud bangs that he was afraid of his own sanity. It made him hope. Made him want to try even though he could end up getting hurt. Somehow, Keith had decided falling for Lance was a risk worth taking, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

Keith glanced down at his phone again, lips curling slightly upwards at Lance’s attempt at flattery. Today’s pick-up line wasn’t the best, but Lance’s delivery was always earnest. Pidge said he should win an Oscar for acting out emotions over text. Though Keith had rolled his eyes at her, he didn’t disagree.

**Message from: Lance, Tuesday 12:15 PM**

**Lance:** Are you Gillette? ‘Cause you’re the best a man can get ;))))))

**Lance:** This one works so much better if I can do my famous eyebrow wiggle

**Lance:** Wait, I’ll show you

**Lance sent a GIF**

**Keith:** You made that just to send me now???

**Lance:** …

**Lance:** I may or may not have a collection of flirty and/or stupid GIF’s of me from when Hunk and I got drunk on Kahlua on the beach last summer

**Keith:** Kahlua? Seriously??

**Lance:** That’s what you chose to get hung up on?

**Lance:** It’s good

**Lance:** Like caramel latte, but with alcohol

**Keith:** Exactly, ewww

**Lance:** Says the one who drinks his double espresso like it’s soda

**Keith:** touché

**Keith:** even Pidge thinks my coffee habits are intolerable, and she lives off Red Bull and Americanos

**Lance:** See? She gets it.

**Lance:** Can’t wait to meet her so we can gang up on you

**Keith:** She’s excited too

**Keith:** I think I’ll just lock you guys in a room together and leave. Seems safer

**Lance:** Nooooo :((((((( It won’t be any fun without you

**Keith:** I guess I’ll survive

**Lance:** Yaay <3

**Lance:** Need to pay attention to our project work before James smacks me with his cap again :( Have a nice day lindo <3

**Keith:** You too <3

At lunch, Pidge suggested that Keith should tell Lance about the exhibition; maybe ask him for advice. After all, Lance was a somewhat seasoned performer. He probably had some familiarity with nervousness, anticipation and mixed emotions before a show, along with a ton of positive experiences he could share to help Keith loosen up and gain a different perspective. Keith didn’t want to bother him with his stupid problems though; Lance probably had enough on his plate. Besides, everything between them was so fun and easygoing. He didn’t want to pop their little bubble of bliss and enchantment. What if he ruined everything?

Absorbed in his own thoughts, Keith didn’t notice his Musicology Professor before he bumped into his belly and spilled coffee over them both. Mr. Leifsson was a busy, often irritable man who usually stressed from classroom to classroom in quick strides, tucking his notes to his chest like they’d escape if he didn’t clutch them hard enough. Naturally, Keith expected him to lash out at him, but for once, he seemed to be in a good mood, shaking his head and smiling at Keith as he apologized profusely.

“It’s no problem, Mr. Kogane. I guess we should both watch where we’re going from now on.” Keith nodded, letting out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding in. He was about to turn and leave when he felt a hand grab onto his shoulder and shuddered, peeking back at his Professor over his shoulder.

“Elena told me you accepted her invitation to perform at the annual exhibition. Congratulations, Keith, I’m sure it will be a terrific show.” Keith tried his best to respond, but ended up just nodding dumbly, as it didn’t seem his vocal chords would start working again any time soon. Mr. Leifsson just kept smiling, brushing at a now cold coffee stain on his shirt, before he waved and walked off. What exactly had just happened?

 

* * *

 

It took two more days for Keith’s final confirmation to arrive in his inbox, but by then he had been approached by both Miss Adinbury and his teaching assistant in Musical conducting, both completely thrilled about his upcoming performance. When he had called Pidge in the middle of her Animations class, body trembling with adrenaline from the shock and confusion, she had only said “I told you so” and offered to sneak out of class to celebrate. The “celebration” ended up being her talking Keith down from a panic attack and buying him ice cream, but she insisted she’d had a good time nonetheless.

When he came home from school Friday night, Shiro and Adam met him by the door clad in matching party hats, forcing one over his head as they dragged him into the kitchen to celebrate. There, Matt and a very mischievous looking Pidge stood with a massive vegan chocolate cake, clad in matching t-shirts reading: “My friend is performing at the annual talent exhibition and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.” Keith didn’t know if he wanted to hug them or have a massive sinkhole appear beneath him.

As this was yet another “family bonding event”, Shiro and Adam bombarded him with questions about Lance, which Pidge ended up answering while dodging Keith’s attempts to hit her with a pair of slippers. She was constantly sniggering, and while Keith was both furious and embarrassed, he soon ended up joining her in her laughter, his original attack ebbing out into a harmless game of tag. It was the first day that week where his shoulders didn’t feel like they were hiked up over his head, and he enjoyed the temporal lack of tension. Judging from his texts, it seemed even Lance could tell he was in a good mood.

 

**Recipient: Lance, Friday 9:11 PM**

**Keith:** Hey, how’s your day been?

**Lance:** Stressful, been working on that group project all day. James is really beating me up over here.

**Lance:** But now it’s suddenly all better <3

**Lance:** You? <3

**Keith:** Good. Our TA let us leave class early, and now Pidge and Matt are over for movie night :)

**Keith:** I got to pick, so we’re watching The Mothman Prophecies

**Lance:** Isn’t that some kind of strange cult movie? Like Bigfoot?

**Keith:** God no, Bigfoot is fiction. Mothman is totally based on real events.

**Lance:** Wow, didn’t know you were the conspiracy type

**Keith:** It’s not a conspiracy if it’s true

**Keith:** Besides, the movie is great

**Keith:** One day I’m gonna force you through it too <3

**Lance:** <3

**Lance:** If the movie’s so great then why aren’t you watching?

**Keith:** I’ve seen it about a hundred times. I mostly put it on to annoy the others

**Keith:** Besides, I wanted to talk to you

**Lance:** Awwww <3

**Lance:** I miss you too <3

**Keith:** <3

**Lance:** You’re really cheerful today <3 Something happened?

**Keith:** Kinda, we’re celebrating. It’s a long story.

**Lance:**  I’ve got time <3

**Keith:** Later? It’s kind of a lot, and I should probably tell you in person

**Lance:** Sure

**Lance:** I should get back to work. Talk to you soon <3

**Keith:** Yeah, soon <3

 

* * *

 

Keith’s day was shaping up to be quite uneventful. Shiro and Adam went out of town for a short get-away, and he ended up staying home alone. Before he left, his brother convinced him not to stress out about his performance and rather enjoy his responsibility-free weekend. They could mark the date in the calendar on Monday. Besides, Keith deserved some time to relax and unwind from all his college stress. Shiro even suggested he should invite Lance over, with Adam visibly winking at him from over his shoulder. He ended up storming into his room and slamming the door, not even bothering to say goodbye.

With heat still rushing to his cheeks half an hour later, Keith paced back and forth in his room, groaning weakly in frustration. Adam and Shiro really knew how to fluster him. It would be nice though, having Lance over. Just the two of them. Maybe he would get to kiss him again. Scratch that, he definitely would. Lance had been more than a little enthusiastic about it since their last date.

They had only seen each other once that week, both way too busy with their own lives and schoolwork. It had been in passing, Keith out to get his morning espresso and Lance rushing to his first period, his blue-striped gym bag almost falling off his shoulder as he ran. Upon seeing Keith, he immediately stopped, as if whatever he was rushing towards had lost its importance. His grin was wide and white, and Keith couldn’t help but smile despite the lack of caffeine in his bloodstream. Suddenly his morning didn’t seem quite as bleak and gray anymore, all worries temporarily forgotten, brushed away at the sight of bright blue eyes and soft caramel skin.

“Morning lindo,” Lance winked, and Keith’s eyes instantly dropped to where he was fiddling with the fabric of his fingerless gloves.

“Hey,” he said weakly, seeing his hands enveloped by smooth, brown fingers as Lance stepped closer. His skin was warm against Keith’s bare fingertips, still chill from the bike ride, and the touch made his spine tingle in the most magnificent way. A hand cupped his jaw gently, and Keith’s eyes dipped into pools of blue once again. Vast and entrancing like the ocean, soft waves pulling his gaze in and holding him close. Keith let out a small cough, realizing he’d forgotten to breathe.

“Weren’t you in a hurry?” he managed to choke out. Lance only smiled wider, bumping their noses together.

“I’m already late. Five more minutes won’t make a difference.” Keith nodded dumbly, unable to form coherent sentences.

The kiss was light and soft, like pressing his lips against the whipped cream atop a chocolate milkshake. Lance tasted fresh, like mint, and Keith absentmindedly started wondering what brand of toothpaste he used. God, he hoped his breath didn’t smell bad. If it did, Lance certainly didn’t mind, because nimble fingers had started carding into Keith’s hair, pulling him closer, deeper.

He experimentally wrapped an arm around his waist, and Lance let out a soft hum, smiling into the kiss. His jacket rode up, and Keith let his hand rest on the small of his back, feeling the fabric of Lance’s jersey.

When they broke apart, a small string of drool connected their lips, eventually breaking off and hitting Keith’s chin. Lance grimaced, moving to wipe it away with his thumb.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing it off on his black joggers. When Keith raised a brow at him, he shrugged his shoulders. “They’ll get sweaty anyways.” Then he glanced down at his watch, eyes widening, before he hiked his bag back over his shoulders, muttering a string of curse words.

“My Professor is gonna kill me,” he sighed dramatically. Then he smirked, leaning in to nibble at Keith’s earlobe. “Worth it,” he whispered, before running off. Keith decided against having his morning espresso that day, his adrenaline was already through the roof.

Would it be weird to ask Lance to come over when he was alone? He didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. And if he did come over, and Keith asked him to stay the night, would that be an invitation? Did Keith want it to be? Why did he have to be so inexperienced at this? His mind seemed to boil over whenever he thought too much about Lance; it was becoming an issue.

He decided to ignore the shadow hanging over his shoulder, instead leaning into the warm feeling flooding up in his chest when he thought of Lance. What was the worst thing that could happen? _Rejection_ , his mind supplied, but Keith pushed it away. Lance wasn’t like that. Dropping back onto his bed with a thump, Keith pulled out his phone. He had to do this while he still had the nerve.

 

**Recipient: Lance, Saturday 12:09 PM**

**Keith:** You busy this weekend?

**Lance:** Kinda yeah :( Project is due on Monday

**Lance:** Why?

**Keith:** Nevermind, it’s nothing

**Lance:** Hey, don’t be like that

**Lance:** Tell me

**Keith:** Just wanted to hang out, gonna be alone here all weekend

**Lance:** Wish I could <3

**Lance:** Wanna see you more <3

**Keith:**  Me too

**Lance:** It’s not cause I don’t wanna. You know that, right?

**Lance:** I’m glad you asked <3

**Keith:** Yeah

**Keith:** I’m just, all in my thoughts sometimes

**Keith:** It’s hard to explain

**Lance:** No worries <3

**Lance:** I really like you, you know <3

**Keith:** I like you too <3

**Lance:** I know, I’m irresistible ;)

**Keith:** I take it back

**Keith:** You’re annoying

**Lance:** :(

**Lance:**  Now you’re hurting my feelings

**Lance is typing….**

**Lance:** Anyway, we should meet for lunch sometime next week <3 Once the project is done my workload will drop a little

**Keith:** That’d be nice

**Lance:** Yeah? <3

**Keith:** Yeah <3

**Lance:** Good <3

**Lance:** Gotta go now. Have a nice day lindo <3

**Keith:** You too

**Keith:** <3

 

He ended up spending his day gaming with Pidge. It wasn’t quite what he had hoped for, but it was nice, and he and Lance kept giving each other small updates about what they were doing, even though it wasn’t anything interesting. Pidge teased him about it, but there was no real venom in her voice. Keith suspected she only kept her act up to hide how happy she was for him. After all, she couldn’t afford to seem soft.

After being beaten too many times in Mario Kart, Keith threw in the towel and went back home, promising Pidge they could play Breath of the Wild in the morning. As he tossed off his shirt and headed for the shower, he heard the familiar ding of his phone. It could just be Pidge again; too lazy to come over with whatever Keith had forgotten at her place, but the small possibility of it being Lance made Keith walk back over to the counter. He shuddered a little from the cold in the bathroom, but smiled down at his phone as he saw the message. At first, he didn’t notice that a picture was attached, then his pupils dilated as his breath hitched in his throat. _Wow!_

**Text from: Lance, Saturday 8:14 PM**

**Lance:** Miss me? <3

**Lance sent a picture**

**Lance is typing…**

**Lance:** Handstand practice.

**Lance:** Sorry, I look really sweaty

 

Lance was in a dimly lit hall full of mirrors, probably one of the practice rooms at their school, his left arm holding up the weight of his entire body, feet straight in the air and his right hand throwing finger-guns at the camera. Gravity had taken hold of his tank top, causing his entire midriff to show, his tight abs glistening with sweat from a full day of practice. His marine tights clung to his legs like a second skin, showing off his strong calves, as well as a nice bulge on the front, Keith noted with a blush. He obviously wasn’t hard, and the picture wasn’t even remotely sexual, more of a show off, but Keith couldn’t help the heat pooling in his stomach at the sight. _Holy shit, that’s hot!_

**Keith:** You look good

**Keith:** I mean, you know… That’s really impressive

**Lance:** Subtle <3

**Lance:** Thanks lindo <3

**Lance:** We’re finally done, my muscles are sooooo sore

**Lance:** Gonna sleep like a baby tonight

**Keith:** I bet, you must be tired

**Lance:** Exhausted

**Lance is typing...**

**Lance:** So... What’s up?

**Keith:** About to go shower

**Lance:** Nice, can I join? ;) 

**Lance:** That was a stupid joke, wasn’t it? Sorry

**Lance:** Anyway, I’mma go shower too

**Lance:** Gotta get off all this sweat

**Lance:** I’ll probably pass out in bed after this so… Night <3

**Lance:** Sweet dreams lindo <3

**Keith:** Night Lance <3

 

Keith stared down at the tent rising in his boxers, his breath coming in heavy, ragged pants. This wasn’t the plan. Tentatively, he reached down, palming himself through the fabric with trembling fingers. A sigh punctured his lips, and Keith let his head fall back from the sensation. It had been a long time since he had given into any of his basal instincts.

To Keith, masturbation had always seemed more like an unavoidable task than a pleasurable event. Throughout puberty, he had his fair share of unexpected boners in unfavorable settings, and had hence learned to deal with them quick and dirty in the stall of a public bathroom or beneath his sheets after Shiro had gone to sleep for the night. When they appeared, it was like an itch that he had to scratch; and the sooner the whole thing was over with, the better.

Considering he had never been with anyone before, neither romantically nor sexually, Keith had never felt the need to explore his desires further. He had always preferred to deal with his arousal as a simple impracticality in his everyday life. In fact, he hadn’t experienced much sexual tension at all in the past few months. Lance had changed that though. Even the mere thought of him seemed to spring him to life, his body finally waking up from its long slumber.

 It wasn’t the first time his thoughts had wandered to picture Lance’s soft, brown skin in all its glory, freed from the confines of tight jeans and oversized hoodies, but it was the first time he didn’t feel completely traitorous and ashamed to let his mind conjure up the images. He didn’t know if he was ready to explore his thoughts with Lance just yet, but that shouldn’t mean he couldn’t indulge himself a little. Especially when Lance was flirting with him so unabashedly, like he wanted nothing more than to be the center of Keith’s attention. Well, he was. And for once, Keith was going to take his time.

Pulling down his boxers in a swift motion, Keith stepped into the shower and turned the knob, shuddering as the first few drops of cold water hit his arms before the spray heated up. He then sighed and sank back into the stream, reveling in the water cascading down his shoulders and abdomen. Closing his eyes, he pictured blue orbs peering down at him through thick, brown lashes, Lance’s devilish mouth turning up in a smirk before tan hands started roaming his body.

_Can I join? ;)_

_**Yes.** Yes yes yes yes yes yes. _Lance could join him any time he fucking wanted.

Keith could feel his cock twitching in agreement and shuddered as he wrapped his hand tight around the base. He varied the strokes a little, experimenting with pulling fast and hard or slow and languid, imagining Lance’s fingers in the place of his own. What would it be like to have Lance’s body pinned against him, their members brushing together under the spray of the water? Keith desperately yearned for the warmth of another body, specifically one with hooded blue eyes and a soft sing-song voice whispering hot things in his ears; preferably in that low Spanish drawl.

As his strokes became more fervent, little grunts and whines started leaving Keith’s half-open mouth. Sounds he usually kept inside to avoid drawing unwanted attention, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop now if he tried. _Thank god Shiro isn’t home_ , Keith shuddered after a particularly drawn-out sound, then quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Nothing killed a boner like the idea of your brother walking in on you, and Keith was determined to end his fantasies on a good note.

He stroke himself harder, cupping his balls and biting his lower lip at the sensation. In his mind, Lance raised a brow at him, cursing under his breath as Keith bucked his hips up against him, desperate for the friction. _“Fuck, Keith. That’s so hot.”_  

Keith’s legs trembled beneath him as he released into his hand, the creamy liquid immediately washing off with the stream and into the shower drain. Blissful, spent, and a tiny bit embarrassed, Keith slid down the wall and collapsed on the stone tiles, panting heavily. It took him a full five minutes to regain the energy to stand up and turn off the water.

His legs were wobbly and sluggish like jelly, his mind still fogged with images of Lance as he curled up in bed, picturing strong arms wrapping around his waist, a flat stomach pressed flush to his back as soft lips ghosted over the nape of his neck. He hoped Lance would visit him in his dreams too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. If you did, please leave me a kudos, or even better, a comment. I love everything from simple hearts to long paragraphs and incoherent rambles. Everything is much appreciated <3 Also, subscribe if you want to know when I upload next, as you can see it's not necessarily very coherent. 
> 
> If you want you can find me on tumblr @sasusoul 
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! A bunch of nonsense just for you x) 
> 
> Please leave a kudos if you happened to like this, or a comment if you wanna pat me on the back. I really appreciate it! Also, feel free to leave suggestions for where I can take this. I've outlined quite a few points, but nothing is really written in stone. Any suggestions/wishes are welcome! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: @sasusoul 
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
